


Hellsing Drabbles

by McSlashy



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Comedy, Creepy Alucard (Hellsing), F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Hellsing Organization, Hellsing Ultimate OVA, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Alucard (Hellsing), Jealousy, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 47,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26567629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McSlashy/pseuds/McSlashy
Summary: Just a bunch of Hellsing drabbles from my Tumblr that I plan to update regularly.I've indicated which chapters are NSFW :)
Relationships: Alexander Anderson & Reader, Alexander Anderson/Original Character(s), Alexander Anderson/Reader, Alucard (Hellsing) & Reader, Alucard (Hellsing)/Reader, Alucard/Original Character(s), Alucard/Pip Bernadotte/Original Character, Pip Bernadotte/Original Character, Pip Bernadotte/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 225





	1. Alucard: Hide and Seek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preface: If you want to make a request, you can head on over to my Tumblr and do so there. Please be sure to read my rules first, though. You can find them embedded in my masterlist.  
> Also, please don't forget to donate if you're digging my work. There are haaaard times: https://ko-fi.com/psychologycatcoffee
> 
> Alucard x Reader, in which Alucard gets super creepy in the catacombs.

You huddled beneath the stone desk, piles of human bones at your feet. Your eyes were closed and your body shook from too much adrenaline. Carefully, you blew out the candle in your lantern and kept your weapons close to your person. Your gun was in your sweaty hand while your knife was in its holster at your hip. You didn’t think you would get the opportunity to use them effectively, but they brought you some semblance of safety, regardless.

Down the corridor from which you had just came, there was silence. You knew better than to trust it, though. You knew what he was capable of and how he crept about in the shadows. You doubted very much that you would hear the fine crunching of skeletal remains on wet dirt when he finally grabbed you.

You didn’t know how it had gone wrong. You had been killing ghouls, working your way toward the master vampire in the old Paris catacombs. Everything had been going according to plan, up until you had marred the weak undead leader. The aggression toward one of his kind, the wild fury in your eyes when you had landed the finishing blow - they had set something off in Alucard. He had stood still for a moment, expression unreadable as his eyes scanned the carnage. His orbs had flashed an intense red behind his tinted glasses, then, promoting you to recoil a few steps.

You trusted Alucard. You trusted him enough not to harm you without just reason. The trouble was, you thought he had found something justifiable in your battle tactics. Indeed, when he advanced toward you, grinning from ear to ear, fang protruding, you thought that he had found damn good reason to hurt you.

Without skipping a beat, you had turned around and fled, thinking that you knew the way out of the catacombs from memory. Unfortunately, your anxiety had morphed the map you had drawn out of the area in your head. It wasn’t long before the twists and turns started looking familiar.

Somewhere behind you, he was cackling like the madman that he was. He was taunting you, trying to get you to react so that he could find you quicker. It was impossible for you not to make noise as you ran, feet stepping around holes and puddles as tried not to stumble too much on your journey. You only hoped you wouldn’t fall through weak flooring somewhere.

“Run, my little (f/n)!” He called down the corridors when you stopped to catch your breath. “Don’t make this easy for me!”

After crawling through a rather narrow crevice, one which you would have never attempted if you life hadn’t been on the line, you had glanced behind you. The lantern only illuminated some of the thick blackness. Even if Alucard didn’t find you down here, you might still not escape with your life. The catacombs were far too vast and you had few matches left in your satchel.

Settling on a room nearby to hide, you had slinked into the slim space and looked around eagerly. Much like many of the others, the room was quite barren. There was a stone table in the corner, as well as remains scattered throughout the space. Old ceramic jugs sat on the piece of furniture, dust and God knew what else dulling their shine. You had crawled beneath the table, hoping that he wouldn’t think to look beneath it. You hadn’t left any footsteps behind, having been careful enough to evade dirt and water after your entrance through the crevice.

For the next agonizing moments, you sat in utter silence, pondering what it was that had led to your demise. What had he felt in the moment? What emotions had be placed on you? Moreover, had he been waiting for the perfect moment to kill you? He was an undead King, after all; he quite liked a bit of turmoil and trickery.

“I can hear your heartbeat, my darling hunter,” he whispered just outside of the room. “It’s beating fast for me tonight.”

You leaned your head back against the wall and prepared to fire in every which way when he finally discovered you. You couldn’t see anything but you knew he could see you. It was eerie, knowing your fate before it was delivered.

His footsteps drew closer, and then ceased. You knew it was because he was listening for your vital signs. He wanted to hear your laboured breathing and pounding heart. He wanted to hear your body panic before it died.

“Are you in here?” He asked playfully. “Or are you in the next room?”

He strode to where the table sat, presumably to determine your exact location. He was playing with his food, at this point, and you weren’t shocked to hear him move to leave the room. Chances were, he knew exactly where you sat. He was trying to coax you into emerging from your hiding place so that he could taunt you for being so stupid. You wouldn’t have it. You wouldn’t be toyed with in this manner.

Just as you heard him step out of the entryway, you leaned forward under the table, aimed using only your ears, and shot the gun at what you hoped was his torso. Several bullets spewed from your weapon as you unloaded an entire round into him. With every flash of a bullet leaving its chamber, you saw his eyes light up with joy. He grinned as the first one knocked him back, the second one tore through his shoulder, the third one bit into his leg, and the fourth embedded itself in his skull.

Before he could rise from the aftermath, you flew out from under the table and grabbed your lantern. You didn’t dare light it, even as you peeled out of the room, narrowly avoiding one of his long arms, and made your way back to the crevice. This time, you were confident that you remembered the way.

“Yes! Yes! This is the fight I’ve always wanted from you, (f/n)!” He roared as he picked himself up and watched as you rounded the corner.

“I can’t believe this…!” You breathed as tears streamed down your cheeks.

You hadn’t wanted to ever turn your gun on Alucard. You had just started seeing him in a new light these past few weeks, having worked with him more frequently. There were many sides to his personality and most would have regarded him as cruel. You, however, had thought otherwise. Until now, that is. You hated that you had been bamboozled, that you had put your life on the line like this.

“Never again,” you seethed. “Never again!”

You rammed into a wall before you could even register that your foot had hit something. Frantically, you felt around for the opening that you had crawled through only moments before.

But it wasn’t there.

You had taken a wrong turn at some point, to absorbed in your thoughts to realize. You whined pathetically as you turned around to face what was coming for you down the corridor. There was no point in trying to hide now.

You changed the cartridge of your gun and set the lantern down by your feet. Removing your knife from its holster, you spun it in your hand a few times before gripping it with resolve. Stepping forward a few steps, you grunted furiously. At the very least, you would put up a damn fight if you were to be ripped apart.

You cocked the gun and fired a bullet down the hallway - a warning shot. The flash revealed his emergence around the corner. Without hesitating, you fired another bullet, watching as he crawled along the wall instead of walking down the pathway. You fired a shot on the right side where he had been, only to notice that he had switched sides. Your fourth shot was fired to the left and your fifth to the right, both missing their target.

Finally, you pointed straight ahead and fired your sixth and last bullet. The brief light revealed emptiness before you. Emptiness. You didn’t trust it.

Gasping for air, you backed up and prepared to stab him, only to feel rough fabric press against your bare shoulders. You stopped, then, not even daring to move when you felt long, cold arms coiling around you like boa constrictors. He had managed to get behind you with his wall climbing stunt.

Your eyes widened and you made to stab him in the abdomen. One of his hands swiftly prevented that, twisting your wrist until your dropped the blade. You screamed as he nearly broke your wrist when you refused to unfurl. In response, he chuckled smoothly.

“Caught you,” he hummed. “What a good fight you put up, my dear. You’re tougher than I thought.”

“Why are you doing this!?” You screeched through a flurry of large tears. “What did I do!?”,

“You killed the target so thoroughly for a mortal,” he explained. “I wanted to see what else you were capable of. I was surprised to see that you hesitated to shoot me for a moment beneath that table.”

Your shook your head as his grip tightened around your form, holding you unbearably close to him. You wondered if he meant to destroy or turn you. The way he was talking, you knew it could be either. This had been a mere game for him, as everything was.

“I didn’t think you would do this to me,” you moaned, terror striking your heart. “Usually I at least do something to make people want to kill me.”

“Kill you?” He drawled, and the two of you paused for a time.

“Yes,” you said at last. “Wasn’t that your intention?”

He seemed to be taking in the meaning behind your words with every passing moment. To him, it was clear that this chase had meant something entirely different. You could tell from the genuine curiosity in his voice that he hadn’t meant to make you fear for your life as much as you had.

“Ah, so that’s why you were working so hard!” He exclaimed with a laugh. “You thought I was going to kill you!”

Your mouth ran dry. “A-Are you fucking serious?!”

This had been a game of violent tag for him. He had simply thought you were giving it your all because you wanted to prove yourself to him or something. How couldn’t he see why you had misconstrued his behaviour? He hadn’t said a damn word to you before the chase; he hadn’t even tried to explain while you were fleeing. You had a difficult time believing that he hadn’t meant to scare you half to death. After all, what fun was hunting prey if the prey wasn’t scared of the predator?

Shoving him away from you as he chuckled away to himself at your error in judgment, you huffed. It was a relief, of course, but you couldn’t quell the anger in your heart. What if you had fallen through a hole somewhere or harmed yourself running? Hell, it was so dark that you could have easily fallen and shot yourself. Swallowing the anger for now, you placed your gun in its holster and took a match out of your pocket. Kneeling down, the flame of the match engulfed the wick of the candle, and you had light once again.

“Son of a bitch,” you hissed, picking up your blade and storing it, as well. “Did that bring you back to the good old days of hunting maidens down in your castle?”

“Those maidens didn’t put up nearly as good a fight as you,” he replied coolly.

You rolled your eyes as you turned to face him. “Am I supposed to be flattered?”

“You humans try to find deeper meaning in everything that’s said,” he scoffed. “Take my words however you wish.”

“Do you know the way out, or shall we stand here arguing all evening?” You asked blankly, ignoring his condescension.

Alucard smirked. “There are other things we could do down here.”

You tilted your head to the side, trying to determine what he was talking about. You had finished the mission and he had successfully “captured” you. What more was there to be done in a macabre place like this? He sensed your confusion regarding his comment, though said nothing to clarify.

“Can we please leave?” You begged.

He grinned at your intense desire to alleviate your anxiety above ground. He would have to do this more often - at least until you weren’t scared of him anymore. He wondered how long that would take after a stunt like this. He didn’t mind waiting, of course. He would prove it to you over and over again that he wouldn’t ever harm you. By the end of your time with him, you would understand that a little fear was good for the soul.

“Follow me, little hunter.”


	2. Alucard: Ouija

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alucard x Reader, in which our favourite vampire is a jerk.

“B-but… it’s only a game, isn’t it?” Seras whimpered despite being a powerful fledgling. “We won’t really be communicating with spirits, right?”

You shot her an agonized look.

“I’m a medium, remember?” You sighed. “Of course we’ll be communicating with spirits.”

Hellsing had hired you a few years ago for your third eye and innate ability. It had only meant to be for one mission. Now, you were full time with them, proving that you were more than worthy enough to run with the big, prestigious folk. You hadn’t had many interactions with Seras, though, hence her misunderstanding of your technique.

You often used a ouija board as a sort of liason between the physical and spiritual realms. It was easier than putting yourself out there at the risk of losing your mind. It was simple for people like you to succumb to the manipulatory tactics of supernatural creatures, after all. Whatever you could do to protect yourself, you would do it. You pressed the plachette onto the centre of the small wooden board carefully.

“I feel a suffocating energy,” Alucard’s voice resounded from the darkness lining the dim room.

He was present to ensure that all went well with your channeling. You had requested it. If Integra’s report was correct and you started communicating with a demon, hell would break loose in an instant. Alucard was the muscle you needed to prevent harm. Seras was merely present to help with the calling. You generally needed at least two people to get an adequate effect.

“Yes, there’s something here,” you responded. “Will you be joining us tonight, Alucard?”

You could almost see his horrid grin when you glanced at the particularly dark patch of shadows in the right hand corner. “An enticing invitation.”

“Oh, come on, master,” Seras whined good-naturedly. “Three is better than two, as they say. Right, (f/n)?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. This woman was awfully chipper for an undead being. Nonetheless, she had a good point in this case; having Alucard’s energy would help to get things moving. The spirits would feel him touching the planchette once you began, flocking toward the new source of power.

As if sensing your agreement, the vampire appeared from thin air next to you. He glared down at you with a simper as you raised a brow at his intentions. He removed his sunglasses and placed them on the table. He took a seat next to his fledgling with a soft groan.

“If you insist, my dear,” he said. “I will lend a hand.”

“How kind of you to do your job,” you stated flatly.

“My job?” He sneered. “My job is to protect you. My job is to ensure that you’re not so incompetent that you get yourself or my fledgling killed.”

You shifted your hand to gesture at Seras. “Your fledgling is perfectly capable of surviving on her own.”

He chuckled darkly. “And you?”

You paused, trying to determine if you wanted to act overconfident or stick to your lane. He already knew that you weren’t great in battle; there was no use in lying. Still, it irked you that he doubted you so. You hated that you weren’t stronger. You hated that you couldn’t defend yourself against the larger, more dangerous enemies.

You stared at him for a moment as he sized you up. There was a gentleness to his crimson orbs this evening, as if he was feeling rather sentimental. He certainly wasn’t expressing such, however. You had began to notice how his demeanor was changing every time he was tasked to look over you. You wondered if it was because you were rough around the edges. Perhaps he felt as though you didn’t much care for him. Did vampires even care about things like this?

Instead of kicking up about it or bothering to ask, you elected to roll your eyes and brush the man off per usual. You didn’t have to understand him to get the job done, did you? Shifting your gaze back to the board, you pressed your fingers against the small device in the centre.

“Just put your hand on the fucking planchette,” you whispered.


	3. Alucard: The Haunted House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alucard x Reader, in which Alucard is an even bigger jerk to prove that you need him more than you let on during missions.

“Wh-what was that!?” Seras squealed, leaping away from the window.

You whipped around to face her, eyes wide and peeled for anything out of the ordinary. You were in a supposed haunted house with the blonde vampire and her master. You hadn’t had to travel far to find it. Locals had complained of a woman dressed in black lace terrorizing their families with omens of demise and injury. The woman sounded like she could be a banshee, though you didn’t know them to attack others unprovoked. It was likelier some malevolent spirit who couldn’t seem to rest without her revenge. Either way, you lot would get to the bottom of it.

The townsfolk had directed you toward a home that they said the spirit inhabited. Supposedly, it was where she had perished. Now, as you stood on the second floor of the abandoned home, you were beginning to feel something sinister in the attic.

“Did you hear something?” You whispered to Seras as she tried to calm herself down.

You couldn’t understand how nervous the woman was. She was a vampire, wasn’t she? You had seen her do battle. She was a complete beast who could hold her own a thousand times over. Why was she so concerned about a rogue spirit? Moreover, you had the father of all vampires on your side. What could go wrong?

“I-I thought I saw something…!” She exclaimed. “Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks on me.”

You shrugged. “Where?”

The blonde pointed to the linen closet in the corner of the room. Around the door, soiled pink wallpaper peeled, revealing stained yellow drywall underneath. There were claw marks in the brown door, as if someone had been trying desperately to enter. It certainly looked eerie, but so did the rest of the house.

You stepped close to the door, trying to sense what might be behind it. Try as you might, you couldn’t feel anything out of the ordinary. Taking this as a good sign, you ripped open the door to show Seras that there was nothing to be afraid of. You certainly didn’t expect something to be there as you stood triumphantly with your back to the space.

Seras’ face shrank as you gestured to the darkness behind you. You didn’t even notice the tall man in a dark top hat, face shrouded and cane just barely scraping the ground. He wore a shredded suit; it was probably the outfit he was buried in. His pale white skin shimmered, as if it was made of moonlight, giving him the appearance of a truely deceptive demon.

“Guess it was your mind playing tricks,” you said simply. “What’s with that face?”

You turned to take a look at what your friend was so fixated on, a smirk on your face. Seras had these moments where she was able to pull one over on you, so you had merely assumed that this was one of those times. It wasn’t until you came face to chest with the ghastly man did you realize you were in trouble. With a gasp, you tried to jerk yourself away, only to be grabbed firmly by the wrist.

(F/n)!“ Seras screamed, picking up her gun and firing a few shots at your aggressor.

The shots landed, but the man was not deterred. He reeled you in so that you were flush against his chest. One of his arms had slithered around her waist. It felt as though he was courting you at a dance. You shoved against the entity while trying to get a glimpse of his face. This evidently wasn’t the female spirit you had heard about from the townspeople.

From the darkness that seemed to follow his face, a long, wet tongue slid out, licking your cheek with a slurp. You resisted the urge to throw up, your movements becoming more frantic than prior. It was getting to be a life or death situation. You might have misjudged the circumstances behind the spirit. Perhaps it was being manipulated by this demon, which had its grubby mitts all over your body.

"Are you scared, mortal?” It asked you in a deep, gravelly voice.

“Seras!” You shouted, ignoring him. “Call Alucard now!”

The entity tightened his grip around your form. It laughed throatily - a disgusting sound. You groaned as you felt your sir being constricted. Something told you that he wouldn’t allow the King to save you. You would be his first victim.

“You can’t defend yourself,” it cackled at the remark. “You need the No Life King to save you?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “Because I was a fucking idiot with a big ego!”

The spirit halted what it had been doing just in the nick of time. His hand had been trailing down your back a little too much for your comfort. You were able to pry yourself back and scramble away from the demon as it underwent its odd, silent meltdown. You didn’t know what had happened. Had it found you pathetic - was that why it had allowed you to live? It wouldn’t be the first time, if that was the case.

It rose its head and lifted the shadows from its face. That’s when you understood why it had ceased. The simper on his face mixed with the quick rising and falling of his chest told it all. You bit your lower lip, trying not to scream. Closing your eyes and turning away, you growled lowly to yourself.

“M-master…!” Seras whimpered, unable to believe her undead eyes.

That’s why you hadn’t felt danger emitting from the closet. It was because you had felt his energy. There was no top hat demon. There was only Alucard.

You spun around then, unable to bottle your anger any longer. You could have died. Not only that, but he had gotten you to belittle yourself in front of him. You stomped over to him, looking about as intimidating as a cinnamon roll.

“What were you thinking!?” You seethed. “We’re here to find-”

“I already handled the woman,” he replied calmly, morphing back into his usual garb. “You were right - she was angry.”

Your eyebrows rose. “You exercised her?”

“I absorbed her.”

You rubbed your temples. Of course he did.

Alucard’s eyes shot to Seras, who stood behind you curiously as you went off on the vampire. She hadn’t been able to defend you or herself from what would have been a benignly powerful spirit. He would need to speak with her further about her lack of bravery and innovation.

“I-I’m sorry…” Seras trailed off, casting her eyes downward.

You turned to glance at her, sensing her discouragement. Alucard was not the type to motivate, after all; to him mistakes were mistakes, and those who made them deserved to he punished. You doubted that he would be too hard on his fledgling, though. She hadn’t done anything wrong, she had just fallen short.

“You did your best to protect me, Seras,” you declared in an attempt to help her case. “Besides, it was me who was the most reckless.”

You should have looked. You were kicking yourself. You should have looked. What if it hadn’t been Alucard? You could have been engulfed or killed.

Alucard hummed, gazing down at you. “Ah, yes. You lacked discipline, didn’t you?”

The arrogance practically exuded off him in waves. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but his stunt tonight… had he been trying to get you to admit that you needed his protection? He got off greatly on being alpha, after all; it was in-line with his character. Alas, you didn’t think you could ever look him in the eye and ask him such a thing. The king of lies, he would never admit to needing validation from a mere mortal.

So instead, you scoffed and rolled your eyes to exaggerate your displeasure. “Don’t chide me.”

He smirked after you, thoroughly satisfied.


	4. Alucard: Pleuvoir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW  
> Alucard x Reader, in which Alucard has a nightmare and his emotions are raw upon awakening.

Alucard sat on his throne, regular red hat and tinted sunglasses set aside for the night. He rested his chin on the back of his hand, resting his elbow against the arm of the grand chair. His messy black hair dangled lazily over part of his face as he cracked a lustful grin, crimson eyes wandering over his lover’s scantily clad form dancing toward him.

The way her body winded, transparent silks covering just enough to make him crave her, drove his mind to another universe. His hands tensed as he tried to stop himself from promptly rising and sitting her atop his lap. She wanted to give him a show. This was so unlike her and yet, it was a welcome change. He didn’t want to deter her from performing more for him in the future.

She danced sensually, a small, devious little smile on her face, as she approached him. He moved his arms so that she may sit, but she instead dropped to her knees. Alucard growled as his beloved took him into her mouth and teased his tip. A clawed hand ran through her hair, forcing her to take him deeper as she worked her tongue over his length. Her throat was tight and warm - it was the best he had felt in years.

His head lulled back and he moaned softly, the sound of rain echoing in his ears as the weather poured down on his domain. Normally, he despised rain. Tonight, however, she was making him like it. She was taking away the trauma that came with this weather in the most wonderful way.

“(f/n),” he hissed. “Let me have you, my queen.”

It was getting to be far too much for him to bear. He gazed down at her as she removed her mouth from his member and lifted her head. At once, his eyes widened.

Her beautiful face had changed into a hideous, decaying visage. Bones jutted out beneath her charred, bloody skin. Her lips were ripped brutally at the edges, giving her the appearance of a happy, starving zombie. His fluids dripped down her chin, mixing with the bloody patch at the base of her face. His breathing tensed and he gripped the arms of his throne is shock. He couldn’t back away. He couldn’t even bear to shove her off as she placed her boney hands against his thighs and lifted herself into his lap.

“Yes, my king,” she groaned. “Whatever you wish.”

Behind her, he saw Harker and Quincey ready their weapons - the very ones they had ended his reign with the first time. He grunted as they advanced on him with great speed. They, too, were as decayed as his beloved.

“No!” He found himself screaming. “Not again! I refuse!”

———-

And then he woke up, panting and fangs protruding from his lips to show his enemies what sort of beast he truly was. He nearly tossed you across the room when his eyes locked onto your form, clad in only a white nightdress. Except for the silk, you looked exactly as you had in his dream before decaying. It thrusted his mind into overdrive.

He glanced around the bedroom curiously, not wanting to act brashly. He didn’t want to admit that he was scared of what he might see in the dim light. He didn’t want to tell himself that, despite being captured by Helsing decades and decades ago, he still feared his demise back then. Most of all, he didn’t want to admit that your betrayal would drive him into a horrid mix between despair and insanity.

“Alucard,” you whispered, petting his head with a shaky hand. He flinched at the sudden touch but didn’t move away. Even if you killed him where he lied presently, your touch would serve to lull him into oblivion.

You wiped the tears of blood that trickled down his face. He didn’t like for you to see him this way. He thought himself to be an apex predator and yet, he acted like nothing more than an old mortal fool in these instances. He wanted to show you how strong he was, not how weak his emotions made him. Reaching up to take your hand into his, he squeeze your digits to reassure you. In response, you climbed into bed with him and rested your head against his chest. You must have been up reading, for a candle was lit on the far table, nearly out now.

“Just a nightmare, my dear,” he muttered, bringing your hand up to his lips. “A nightmare of events long passed.”

You knew of his occasional traumatic dreams. You knew that they always ended in tragedy and that they caused him a great deal of mental harm. He trusted you to keep him stable after these nights. When you had seen him stirring, his limbs nudging and his mouth grimacing, you had set your book down and leapt into action. You had called his name several times in an attempt to rouse him, grateful when you saw those gorgeous crimson eyes snap open.

You hated that he felt like this, that his past mistakes haunted him. As his queen, you wanted nothing more than to take his pain away. Instinctively, you cuddled closer to him. He had his arm around you, holding you in place by his side, nails pressing small half-moon indentations against your skin.

You didn’t dare ask him the content of the nightmare. The last time you had nudged him about it, he had erupted, frightening you. It was a sore spot, you recognized; you had to stay away from it until he was ready to indulge you.

And he did so rather quickly this night.

“You were pleasing me on your knees,” he said, voice deep and strained. “And then, you were a ghoul, with Helsing’s hunters behind you.”

You nodded, trying not to blush that half of his dream had been you performing a sexual act. Did he have dreams of you often, for that matter?

“Quite often,” he chuckled, reading your mind. “If I had it my way, you wouldn’t leave the bedroom on my days off.”

“Okay!” You exclaimed, slightly flustered that things had gone from serious to flirtatious in a matter of seconds. “Tell me more about the nightmare.”

Alucard hummed, stroking a gloved hand up and down your spine idly. “I woke not knowing if you would kill me.”

This was a fear he had rather often. The two of you had been together for almost a decade now, and still he believed there were days where you would murder him. He remained nervous and defensive about the trust he had granted you upon making you his queen. It was understandable, given the betrayals he had faced in the past. Nevertheless, you wished he would let go of the things that inhibited him. You just wanted him to live happily.

“I would never,” you spoke softly. “I would never, my king.”

And he knew that. He knew that you would never attempt his murder. He knew because you hadn’t done so yet. That was enough, wasn’t it? A decade was enough for him to trust you full-heartedly.

He shifted down to press a kiss against the top of your head. Across the room, the candle fizzled out and you were engulfed by the darkness. It was comforting to the vampire, the soft embrace of the shadows. He groaned once more, stretching as he pulled you so that you were nearly atop his body. He couldn’t help but want you close; it was the only want he could return to sleep, and he needed it.

“I love you,” you mouthed.

“Rest well, my queen,” he replied, a sign that he was grappling with his thoughts.

He never told you he loved you. He had other ways of saying it; ways that made you feel what he felt for you. That meant more to you than the words, themselves; to feel the love of this wonderful being was enough.

He loved you - that was a fact; for only the one he loved could break him from his torn emotional state after a nightmare. As a final bloody tear fell from his eye, he inhaled your scent and closed his eyes. He didn’t sleep anymore than night, but he held you until the early hours of the morning.


	5. "All of my choices lead me to you" -Alucard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alucard x Reader, wherein Alucard keeps seeing a woman who never ages throughout his travels and gets slightly yandere when he finally confronts her.
> 
> Prompt: "All of my choices lead me to you."

He could barely believe his eyes.

He had been around the world a handful of times in his immortal life and had encounter many colourful characters. Though, the issue with eternal life was that mortals were so fleeting; he barely met the same person more than twice. Even supernatural beings, who believed their lives were endless, generally only lasted a few centuries. It was a lonely life when he thought of these things.

He had loved and lost, then loved again. He had formed relationships with people who would only be by his side for less than a century. He had attended more funerals than birthdays. For a while, he couldn’t have imagined his life without tragedy.

That is, until he met you.

He had first seen you nearly two centuries ago. Disguised as a two-eyed Baskerville, you had been in the British countryside when he had found you. Still tied to the damned Helsing family at that time, Abraham had allowed him to hunt for the first time that evening. The condition had been that the vampire could not drain his target; he had to keep them alive. The logic had not necessarily been of good nature; on the contrary, Helsing merely hadn’t wanted to garner any attention to his family. Alucard recalled laughing mockingly at the man’s inherent selfishness.

You had been his target after running through the countryside, well away from his new family. He had found you outside of a village, gathering herbs. It would have been easy to attack, but something had halted him before he could pounce.

It had been the way your eyes had lit up at the sight of him.

“Oh! A dog!” You had exclaimed. “Hello!”

Most people were weary of him in this form, likely because he appeared to be more wolf than dog. Most people would have run from him. He would have liked for you to have done that, as well; it would have given him a good chase.

Instead, you had rushed up to him and let him sniff your extended hand. He could have dug his teeth into you right then. Alas, once again, he had squandered his opportunity in favour of playing into your charade. He rubbed his dry nose against your skin, relishing in how cool your hand felt.

“You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” You had cooed, rubbing his head gingerly.

Oh, if only you had known. He was a big boy, though not in the way you had implied.

In the end, your kind heart had begrudgingly deterred him and he had found someone else to feed on that night. It hadn’t been difficult. He didn’t think much of it until a decade later, when you appeared before him a second time. The issue was, you still looked exactly the same.

The next time, he had been disguised as a younger version of himself during his mortal years. The genre of the mission had called for him to take on an attractive form. Perhaps this was what had attracted your stare across the French marketplace. His crimson eyes had locked onto you curious ones. Rather than glancing away, however, you had smiled.

This had taken him aback. Not many people smiled at him. Women were too intimidated of his good looks and men were far too fearful of his blatant killing intent. Before he could approach you, vaguely remembering you from that day near the British village, you had turned and ran off. Again, he had left you be.

The third time he had seen you, during the fall of the Berlin wall, he had finally gotten the chance to speak with you. The only downfall was that he hadn’t noticed it was you.

Undercover as an allied soldier, he had grinned at the crumbling of that cursed wall. So much hate, the war had brought. It had sickened even him, a creature born of sin. Everyone had cheered that night, celebrating in the streets and chatting amongst each other. The cold war was nowhere near over but mortals tended to commemorate even their small victories.

“Enjoy the show?” You had asked while in line for food rations behind him.

He hadn’t turned around. Many people had spoken to him already; he didn’t see a need to regard each and every one of them. Besides, the fewer who noticed his pitch black, soulless eyes, the better.

“That I did,” he drawled once more. “Things are far from over, though.”

You had hummed sadly. “That’s true, but let’s let them celebrate for now, yes?”

He had shifted to look at you then, only to catch your back end as you ran. He hadn’t chased after you then, either. He wasn’t sure why; maybe because he knew he would see you again.

And he did.

And this time, he was the one who had made the first move.

You had attended Sir Integra’s funeral, telling those present that you were a longtime associate. Of course, you had never met his late master; he was quite certain of this. By now, he had grown used to your scent. He would have noticed if Integra had ever come across the likes of you.

He hadn’t approached you, allowing you to mingle with the few select people who had decided to show up to the service. You were charming and beautiful - he would give you that. He didn’t know why you had taken to stalking him since that second encounter, though he would discover this in due time. He was sure you had a reason, be it lethal or otherwise.

If you tried to challenge him, he would rip you to shreds. Pretty or not, you would get what you deserved. He found you after the service with this in mind, when everyone else had been dismissed. He had told Seras to meet him back at the estate as he approached you from behind. This time, you hadn’t been expecting him.

“Here you are, yet again, my dear,” he growled, making you jump.

Whipping around, you pressed a hand to your chest. A frown on your face, you told him, “any louder and we would have had to have a double funeral.”

He paused for a moment, considering your quick witted words, before bursting into a dark chuckle. You smirked as he indulged in your humor. You had pegged him for a culture vampire.

“Then I take it you’re not looking for a fight,” he sighed dramatically. “A shame.”

You shook your head, a sly expression on your face. “It’s not a shame. I wouldn’t have made a good opponent, as a mortal.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten our first meeting, centuries ago. You’re far from a mortal.”

You couldn’t deny that, so you waved him away with a dismissive hand as you walked toward the door. There were staff members in the basement but otherwise, you were alone. It didn’t unnerve you, really, having done your research on the domesticated vampire, but it did give you chills to be this close to him. He was a tall, handsome, daunting-looking man. It was different, speaking with him face-to-face.

Just as you were going to open the door, he grabbed your wrist and yanked you backward. Before you could yelp, one of his hands covered your mouth and the other secured your hands behind your back. He slammed you against the nearest wall and leaned down so that his mouth hovered just by your ear.

You didn’t struggle, living up to your word about being a weak opponent. You knew that you couldn’t win against a beast like Alucard. Your goal had only been to have a little fun. You hadn’t ever wanted your little adventure to go in this direction. Maybe you should have, given this was his former master’s funeral.

He was a free man, now.

“What are you, pretty little monster?” He inquired, not removing his hand from your lips. “Why is it that all of my choices lead to you?”

You didn’t say a word. You weren’t yet an active partner in this conversation, after all. This was still just a monologue.

“What is it that you made me feel in that field? What sort of hypnosis did your eyes put me under to stop me from ripping out your throat and ravaging you?”

You remembered meeting him in his canine form that day, many decades ago. You hadn’t sensed him before he had emerged. You had felt his vampiric blood. You didn’t know why he had let you live that evening. By all rights, he should have pounced and destroyed you. You hadn’t done a thing to influence him.

“And in that marketplace,” he snickered humorlessly. “I would have enjoyed having you on my arm. Why did you flee?”

You had fled because you had noticed who he was only after he had made eye contact with you. Beforehand, you had simply thought him to be an attractive mortal. Like many other men and women in the area, you had been ogling him. When you had discovered his true identity, linking the vampiric energy you vaguely felt to him, you had left at once.

He hadn’t killed you back then, by the village. You hadn’t wanted to give him the chance to do so right there, in front of everyone. It had been your cowardice, rather than you attempting to vex and entice him.

You felt him nip at your earlobe as his breath came closer to your face. He whispered, “and what of Berlin? You were toying with me.”

When you had felt his presence the third time, you had been shocked. You had been able to identify him that time, as he had been directly in front of you in line at rations. You had only spoken to him to see what he would respond with. You hadn’t expected him to turn around.

You spoke up, “I wasn’t toying with you.”

“Then what the hell do you think you’ve been doing?” And he was angry.

He was angry because he was confused. He didn’t understand the perception he had of you, and you didn’t even know how to start explaining it all. You supposed you would start with the basics. When he removed his hand from your mouth in favour of cupping the front of your neck, you gulped. He was getting some unsavoury ideas, no doubt; you would need to act swiftly if you wanted to prevent his perversion from taking over.

“I-I’m a shapeshifter,” you admitted. “The first three times we’ve met have been unplanned.”

“Oh?”

“This fourth time was my idea, though,” you continued. “I wanted to see you again.”

You didn’t know how else to put it. After your third encounter with him, you had thought him to be Satan, himself. Why else were you meeting him around the time of a major tragic event? It had made sense at the time. That is, until you had heard of the Hellsing organization from a stranger in passing.

It was only then that you had learned his name: Alucard. You had instantly recognized the origin as that of Dracula, the original vampire of Eastern Europe. The question remained even after this revelation: why did you keep encountering Dracula?

There was only one way to find out, you knew. You would have to ask him. You had seen the funeral as a way to get close to him once more, to see him in the flesh for a final time before you worked up the courage to speak with him.

This time without his back turned to you.

You had chickened out until he had approached you, his presence shrouded. You hadn’t even seen him come up on you. You had truly thought that you had escaped a fourth time.

How wrong you had been.

Now, your ignorance and dumb curiosity had endangered your life yet again. This time, you had infuriated a master vampire.

“You wanted to see me again?” He echoed, as if in a daze. He was trying to make sense of it before he decided what to do with you. “For what reason, little shapeshifter?”

You groaned. “I really don’t know. You’re interesting, I guess.”

He scoffed. “You expect me to buy that?”

“Yes!” You squeaked when you felt his hand tighten around your throat. “I know it sounds like bullshit, but-”

“What are you seeking from me?” He mused, more amusement than anger in his deep tone. “A date?”

Your face went red and you tried in vain to shake your head. You didn’t want to go on a date - he had to be joking.

“No!” You insisted.

“You seek to entice me into your bed, then?” He was smirking, his grip on your neck loosening up alongside his mood.

“No…! Well, I mean-”

“Ah,” he purred deviously. “There it is.”

His hand left your neck and trailed down your shoulder and arm. Releasing your hands, he turned you around to face him, still keeping you firmly against the wall. His eyes burned into yours, their sheer strength making your own power pale in comparison.

His hand came up to cup your face this time. He was actually putting his charm on you at Integra van Hellsing’s funeral. He was really trying to get laid at a dark time like this. Well, you supposed this was also a celebratory time for him, in that light.

“You want me,” he stated, as if this was a confirmed fact.

Your gawked at him. “I want you?”

He grinned wolfishly. “Why else would you come to me on this day? You’re like a gift for my obedience to that wretched family.”

Just as you had suspected. This was a good day for him, albeit bittersweet. He thought you had planned this, too. At this rate, there would be no convincing him otherwise. He was so drunk with his newfound freedom and power that he had slipped into some sort of delusion frenzy.

“You’re absolutely-”

He cut you off by jerking you forward, taking both of your hands in his, as if he was preparing to dance with you. “Don’t deny yourself a basic need, my beautiful shifter. I can fulfill you.”

You tried to move away but he refused to let you go. As he gazed down at you longingly, lust in his expression, you knew that you weren’t going to escape this being without a fight. It didn’t matter what you did, he was the type to always be one step ahead of you. Now that you had caught his attention, he wouldn’t let you go.

Why the hell had you decided to play around with the original vampire, again?

You gasped as you felt his lips against your neck. His fangs prodded at your flesh and you whimpered pathetically. You knew he wouldn’t kill you just yet, but he was taking things in a direction you hadn’t anticipated. You didn’t know what else to do but submit. You couldn’t do anything else, could you?

As he claimed your lips and you melted in his grip, you let go of your inhibitions. It didn’t matter why you had come here anymore. All that mattered was this.

Because he was right - you needed this and you hadn’t even known of your carnal deprivation until he had laid his lips on you.


	6. Alucard: Daddy Kink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight NSFW  
> Alucard x Reader, in which Alucard doesn't realize he has a daddy kink until you test it out.

He hadn’t had much time for you in the past week. Hell, he hadn’t even had much to for himself. Whatever free space between missions he had was reserved for feeding. It was no secret that you missed him, and he you. Both of you had been quite non-vocal about it but he knew of your feelings. When you smiled at him as he passed by you in the hall, he could feel your anxiety and frustration about him being gone so frequently. Alas, you were a private person. You wouldn’t want to seem needy or risk deterring him from his missions. He respected you greatly for this.

It was because of your patience that he decided to grace you with his brief presence before he left during the evening. He had found some time to get away from his master, but not much. You would have to settle for a few moments only. He knew you would be begrudgingly grateful. Maybe you would even want to repay him for his kindness when he was less busy. That brought a small smirk to his face.

He opened the door to the shared bedroom, chuckling when you smiled upon sight. The joy in your eyes was difficult to stifle. You were so happy to see him. As he brought you close by the wrists, he took note of your half naked body. You were so beautiful with nothing on… if only he could-

“Are you staying the night?” You asked, snapping him from the filthy thoughts that threatened to emerge.

“No, my dear,” he said solemnly.

You nodded in understanding. “I’ll see you soon, then.”

He fingered your bra strap with a sharp nail. “Maybe with less on.”

“Mm, I’d like that, daddy,” you whispered sensually.

His mouth ran dry and he stopped moving for a moment. Dare he say, he liked that quite a bit. Daddy. It had a nice ring to it. Being called the father of all vampires on a regular basis even made it fitting. He wanted to hear you say it again, this time in a laboured voice as he fu-

“Shouldn’t you be going?” You asked, gazing at him slyly.

He grinned widely, nearly drooling at the thought of finishing his next few missions and being able to spend some quality time with you. You were such a tease. You knew exactly what turned him on and drove him wild, and then you turned him away. A tempting seductress, you were hard to resist.

“I’m going to ravage you when I return,” he said finally, forcing himself to disappear from sight.

You smiled as he dwindled. You expected as much.


	7. Alucard: Familial Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alucard x Reader, in which you introduce your boyfriend to your parents at long last, and your father ends up knowing him.

“I’m excited to meet (f/n)’s partner,” your father said gleefully, popping the basted chicken into the oven.

Your mother, nose-deep in the newspaper, nodded. “I’m happy she finally trusts us enough to bring him around.”

It was true. You and your new boyfriend had been dating for six months and you still hadn’t introduced him to your family. You claimed that it was because he was a man of Hellsing, and that you didn’t want your father to harass him. Now a man of the kitchen rather than a man of battle, your dad had been a member of the Hellsing organization before you were born. He had served that family for ten years of his life. He was earnestly grateful to be alive given that he was a mere human against supernatural forces.

He hadn’t wanted you to join the organization at first, worried that you would meet with a horrible fate. Alas, your mother had managed to convince him that you would follow your own path in life, whether he liked it or not. Begrudgingly, he had come to accept your goals. Moreover, now that you had met a man who would no doubt protect you during your service, he was even more at ease.

You had been exceptionally secretive about your beau. Neither of your parents were sure what to expect. Would he be tall or short? Would he be like your exes or completely different? Most importantly, would he be likeable? You didn’t have a great track record with dating, but perhaps this time would be different. You were nearly twenty-three years old now; they had watched you mature greatly over the years and you deserved for them to give you at least some credit.

Thus, they were keeping an open mind about him.

A knock was heard at the door, prompting your mother to leap from her chair. She raced to open it, happy to see her child after a few long months. Your father was just as giddy, tending to the food on the stove top as he eagerly awaited your entrance.

“Mom!” You shouted with joy as you stepped into their home. “It’s so nice to see you.”

Your mother smiled and embraced you, rubbing your back with a content groan. “Have you been doing well?”

“Yes, I have,” you reassured her.

She looked over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of your partner. When he wasn’t there, she casted you a concerned glance.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” She inquired. “Al, was it?”

You nodded. “He said he would be a few minutes late. I came ahead of him because you know how I feel about waiting.”

Your mother grinned knowingly. She did, indeed. If you were anything like her, you absolutely detested waiting. It made you antsy in all the worst ways.

You walked into the kitchen and greeted your father with a merry wave, basking in the strong smells. You loved whatever was in the oven and sizzling on the stove top. Your father was the best cook you had ever encountered.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asked, as well.

“He’ll be here soon,” your mother replied for you, rushing back to her newspaper.

“Great!” He smirked. “Al, right? Why don’t you tell us a little more about him.”

You took a seat at one of the barstools by the counter. Cheekily, you uttered, “you’ll see what he’s like when you meet him.”

“At least tell us how you met,” he insisted.

“We met at Hellsing, I told you,” you asserted. “He works closely with Sir Integra.”

Suddenly, your father’s face shrank. You hadn’t shared that tidbit about him before, and he only knew two people who worked in close quarters with the boss, herself. Coincidentally, one of their names began with Al.

“Oh, God,” your dad whispered, clutching his head dramatically. “It can’t be.”

Alucard.

No.

He hated that vampire with everything in his heart for what he had done over the years, not to mention the atrocities he committed during his mortal life. As a Hellsing soldier, your father had done jobs with him in the past. Typically, he and his men could never trust Alucard because he was such a wildcard. Some days, he would protect his human companions. Other days, they could all go to hell. He had lost many friends due to him.

On top of all that, there was no denying that he was sarcastic to boot and annoying as all fuck.

If it truly was Alucard, what did you see in him? Had he used his magic to entrance you, perchance, forcing you to commit yourself to him.

He stared at you, inspecting your face. It wasn’t paler than usual and your cheeks were still rosey. Your eyes didn’t appear devoid of life and your weight hadn’t drastically altered. It didn’t look like you were in peril or being manipulated, but that didn’t mean much. The ancient vampire was powerful; he couldn’t be taken lightly.

A knock at the door made your father yelp.

“Dad!” You cried, rising from your stool. “Are you okay?”

He waved you off with a frantic, dismissive hand as he darted out of the kitchen to rip open the door. Stumbling over the standing coat rack, he stabilized himself before clearing his throat and opening the door like a normal person. If it wasn’t the man he was thinking of, he would look pretty ridiculous answering so desperately.

But alas, luck was not on his side.

“Ah, Graham,” his houseguest purred. “So nice to see you again.”

Your dad was frozen for a moment, merely staring at the vampire as he stood in the doorway. He didn’t look like Alucard anymore. He had long, straight black hair with his usual tinted glasses. His skin was the colour of the moonlight. There was no mistaking his presence.

“You…”

“Hey, you made it!” You cheered from behind him.

“I did,” Alucard simpered. “Won’t you let me in for dinner, Graham?”

“The fuck I will-”

Your mom yanked her husband backward and made room for your boyfriend to enter. She brought her mouth closed to his ear as she did so, never breaking her smile.

“Are you seriously starting shit already?” She murmured threateningly.

He wanted to tell her of his past history with the monster at the door, but he doubted that either of the women would hear him out. You seemed lovestruck and she was blinded by how smitten you were with the beast. It would be three against one, as Alucard would absolutely lie to get his way.

With a huff, he shifted from his wife’s grip and scowled. He would need to play nice; however, if he had his way, the black haired menace would not enter his abode.

“Sorry, Mary.” He whispered. “But we can’t let this fucking asshole into our-”

“Come in,” you gestured your boyfriend, to which your father rolled his eyes and groaned.

“Oh, Jesus, no.”

“Graham…!” Your mother hissed in a hushed tone.

This was going to be a long night.


	8. Alucard: Pregnancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short exchange between reader and Alucard when he first learns that you're pregnant. An additional exchange between reader and Seras afterward.

Alucard stared at you with the widest eyes you had ever seen on him. He blinked seldomly in the minutes that passed, crimson orbs locked onto your stomach. There was nothing abnormal about its shape; you were still the same shape of woman he fell in love with. However, you had just broken the news of something more growing within you, something that he hadn’t thought it was possible to create.

“…are you sure?” He asked quietly, the air somber.

You showed him the pregnancy test that Seras had picked up for you in secret. It was positive. You had tested one other time to be doubly sure, as these sorts of tests could be faulty. There was no doubt about it - you were pregnant.

“I’m sure,” you whispered.

The silence wouldn’t be akin to what you heard before he absolutely decimated an enemy. On the contrary, it would be serene as he took in the new information. He had never had an aspiration to become a father, except for during his life as a mortal. He had been told by many others that vampires couldn’t procreate with humans. Hell, it was even difficult for them to reproduce with each other. He wondered what the pregnancy would be like and what you would go through. Would the child kill you…?

No. He didn’t want to think about that so early. This wasn’t the time for morbid predictions, for once. This was a time for celebration.

He smiled softly, entire visage melting into one of adoration. It wasn’t often he looked at you like this, the hardened being that he was. You were in awe of how favourable he regarded you.

“I’m nervous,” you breathed as he embraced you gingerly, and it was understandable if not a little adorable. “I don’t know anything about this.”

He chuckled into your hair in his usual deep, baritone voice. “We’ll learn.”

\----

When you told Seras the news, you hadn’t expected her to shut down. The usually bubbly, upbeat vampire seemed to process the information in an entirely different way than her master. Her eyes went downcast and she zoned out. It took a few seconds for you to grab her attention, concerned that something had detonated within her to make her react in such a way.

She was panicking, likely more than you were about this potential new addition to the family. She had already dedicated her eternal life to protecting you. How would a child play into this? How could she protect both of you at once? Moreover, would your love for her as your friend be overshadowed by the new bundle…?

When she finally returned to you in present time, dispersing her horridly toxic thoughts, she shook her head a few times to gather her bearings, smiling like her usual self abruptly. She didn’t want you to know what had been wafting about her mind. Today was supposed to be your moment to shine and share your life with her. There was no need for you to concern yourself with her incessant ramblings and worries.

“Oh, yes! Sorry, (f/n)! This is excellent news!” She rubbed the back of her head, feigning embarrassment.

You blinked. “Are you okay, though? You blanked out on me.”

You were so sweet in that moment. You cared so much for her, and here she was being selfish. You had wanted to tell her this news because you wanted her to support you. That probably also meant that you wanted her to protect your child… at least, that was how she was going to take it. She wouldn’t inform you that she knew of your unspoken wishes just yet, however. Something told her that it would be as difficult of a conversation for you as when she had told you about how much you truly meant to her.

That had been a scary day. She had thought she was going to lose you. Not that she would have, of course; you could never escape from her or her master, even if you tried.

“I’m okay,” she falsely reassured you. “I’m just surprised, to be honest.”

“Alucard was, too.”

On that note, Seras pondered whether she would protect the child if her master desired to kill it. She had heard that vampires may have the tendency to attack their own young.

The answer was obvious, though.

If she would protect you from his wrath, she would also protect them. Forever and always, it was her job not to let any harm befall her dear and only friend.


	9. Your Eyes I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheater!Alucard x Reader, in which you work up the courage to leave him.  
> Part 1/ 3

“Well, at least you’re being honest,” you mumbled, trying not to bawl your eyes out in front of him. “My ex came home with hickeys on his neck and claimed he was popping bottles all night, which kept hitting him in the neck.”

Alucard raised an amused brow at this, wondering if you were exaggerating. Judging by the look on your face, it appeared you were not.

He had just confessed to cheating on you during his trip to Brazil with the Hellsing team. You had stayed behind during this mission because you had been needed at the estate more than anywhere else. As a medical professional, it was key that you stayed in the facility provided for you unless otherwise specified. As Integra had put it, “you never know when something will go wrong”. This meant that you had to be ready for any and all medical emergencies.

It just so happened that Sir Hellsing had asked a few of her men to infiltrate Iscariot ranks just as she had ordered your partner to Brazil. Of course, this meant that you couldn’t leave the manor, and of course, the men had returned to you either in body bags or badly beat up. In this manner of speaking, it had been good that you had stayed behind; however, in another, more personal manner of speaking, you deeply regretted it.

Maybe if you had been present, he wouldn’t have felt the urge to be unfaithful. Maybe he wouldn’t have turned to another woman - one of his kind - to fulfill his growing desire after a particularly bloody mission. Maybe-

You shook your head at that moment, not articulating any of your thoughts. It wasn’t like he couldn’t read your mind, anyway. You knew cheaters. You knew how they operated and what they wanted. You knew they were selfish, that you being there wouldn’t have changed the end result, that they were always going to cheat if given the opportunity. There was nothing you could have done to stop the misadventure.

Inhaling deeply, you closed your eyes and wondered why you had thought yourself to be an exception to his rules. You had always known he was twisted and amoral. Why had you believed he would treat you any differently?

Was it because he had showered you with affection while in private, or was it because he told you that you fucked him better than any person he had ever been with? Perhaps your belief stemmed from how easy it was to confide in him, or how he had never laid a claw or fang on you without your consent. Either way, you had been a fool.

Reopening your eyes, you walked across the room and opened the closet. Since you had started dating the vampire roughly a year ago, you had decided to move into his room. Hence, all of your things were still there, stored away in the large enclosure.

You produced your large suitcase, knowing well that it would fit everything you owned. You weren’t necessarily a materialistic person; there wouldn’t be too much to pack. Besides, it wasn’t like you were leaving the manor. You would probably just be given a room in the infirmary or upstairs somewhere. You would need to talk to Integra about this right away.

“You’re going to leave, are you?”

And you could feel him grinning, as if he didn’t expect you to follow through. How many people had threatened to depart in the past after he had hurt them, and how many of them had truly left? If you had to guess, factoring in his charm and good looks, you would deduce that many had remained.

Well, not you.

“That’s right,” you stated simply. “You cheated on me, so our relationship has ended.”

You heard him walk closer to you, stopping when he was directly behind you as you opened up the suitcase on his mattress. Vaguely, you wondered how many people he had slept with in the very bed you had shared with him. Who was to say that Brazil was the first incident?

His large hands cupped your shoulders and rubbed them gingerly, lovingly. Your heart ached for his affections to be genuine but you knew better; you knew that he was only putting on a facade to make you stay. He didn’t love you - he loved the thought of you, the thought of no one but him having you. That’s how men seemed to work in your life. They didn’t appreciate you until you left, and then their goal was to ruin what happiness you could find beyond them. Alucard would no doubt be the same.

“Don’t pack yet,” he whispered, voice just next to your ear. “Let’s talk. Tell me why this bothers you so much.”

You resisted the urge to smack his hands away and scream at him with all your might. What was there to discuss? You had confronted him about a bejeweled necklace you had found in when washing his overcoat and he had come clean immediately. He had told you of the sweet little artificial vampire he had encountered during his mission and how he couldn’t have passed up the opportunity for wild, animalistic sex. It had been a moment of weakness, he had claimed, and he was dreadfully sorry to have hurt you while satiating his lust.

Only apologies weren’t good enough.

Apologies could be used for accidentally hurting someone, but they couldn’t be used for cheating. With this scenario, especially; his actions had been premeditated. He hadn’t been forced into it for the sake of his life or the mission; he had done it simply because he had wanted to.

The utter thought of his betrayal made you ill. You could never hope to be with him again after this. You couldn’t stop thinking of the other woman, even now. Moreover, the looming thought of there being others harmed your heart more than the initial betrayal. How could you ever trust his word again?

“There’s nothing left to say,” you grumbled, shrugging his hands away as you darted about the room. “I don’t want to talk, I just want to leave.”

Alucard stood back for a time and watched you with an expression you couldn’t quite identify. Perhaps it was frustration that you didn’t seem to believe his lies, or maybe it was just that he didn’t know what else to do. You were grateful, at the very least, that he wasn’t teasing you with the ordeal. The man was known to be verbally cruel when he felt vulnerable; you had come to understand this well throughout knowing him.

When you had finally gathered your last shirt and stuffed it into your suitcase, you zipped the item up and dragged it toward the door. Alucard blocked your path before you could reach the exit, not planning to let you leave without his little chat. This was expectant of him, though you couldn’t fathom his audacity.

“I want tell speak with you before you leave,” he said, voice lowered. “Put your bag down.”

“Don’t make demands of me when you’ve hurt me beyond comprehension.”

Your voice was small and trembling. You just wanted to get out of his room so you could be left to cry and whine as you saw fit. Then, when that was over with, you would undoubtedly hook up with a few people before realizing that you had to rebuild the love you had for yourself prior to Alucard.

All in all, you just wanted to at least start to get over him.

“This was the only time I allowed my instincts to get the best of me,” he muttered. “Surely you can forgive an error, my dear.”

You stared at him as if he had grown a second head. An error - that’s what he was calling it?

“Yeah, but you see, I can’t trust you anymore,” you explained quietly, the tears starting against your will. “I can’t trust that she was the only one, or that she will be the only one.”

He smiled with his eyes, and you resisted his mind altering with what magical prowess you had. It wasn’t uncommon for him to do this during arguments. You had hated it before and you despised it now. Unless he exerted his full influence onto you, he wouldn’t be able to convince you this time. You had already made up your mind, as it were.

“How can I linger on another when you’re standing before me?” He asked rhetorically, hands roaming down to grip your hips and bring you close. “You’re the one I want as my queen. You’re too good to pass up.”

“Except when you’re horny,” you hissed, stepping back from his grasp.

He chuckled. “What would you have me do, then, when an opportunity to relieve myself arises?”

Finally, you snapped. It was clear that he didn’t think this was a big deal, that he thought you were overreacting regarding how much he had hurt you.

“You don’t fuck other people when you’re in a monogamous relationship, Alucard!” You screamed. “I would have you walk away and not fuck anyone else!”

His grin was wiped from his face as you huffed before him, angrier than he had ever seen you before. Still, somewhere in his mind, he believed you to be the unreasonable one. It may have been due to his lack of self-awareness when it came to others, or maybe it was merely his pride. Regardless, he couldn’t fathom bowing to you any further than he already had.

You were being silly, at this point. He had already told you he wouldn’t do it again. Wasn’t his word enough? Besides, who else could take care of you like he could, and where would you find someone else to love you? You were practically confined to the estate because of your profession.

Didn’t you realize that walking away from him was the worst thing you could do? He wouldn’t allow it.

“Did we explicitly agree on monogamy?” He inquired with a devious glint in his crimson eyes. “I don’t recall agreeing to exclusivity.”

Your mouth went agape, tears streaming down your cheeks from the tearing of your heart. This was a new low, and one that you hadn’t anticipated. He couldn’t be serious.

“Wh-what…?” You murmured, absolutely shattered.

And when he said nothing, you nearly laughed out loud. Well, two could play at this bitter game, you supposed. Yes, two could hurt each other rather nicely; but you would have to do it now, while you still had the gall.

“You’re saying I could have slept with Pip?” You asked slyly, watching as the smug smirk on his face quickly dissolved.

He didn’t like the idea of sharing you, did he?

“If I had known that, I may have indulged once or twice,” you drawled with faux confidence.

“Why would you when you have me at your beck and call, darling?” Alucard questioned, trying to maintain composure. “I’ve brought you to orgasm too many times to count in just one night.”

You didn’t want to think about this. You didn’t want to be softened by memories of his sweet love and caressing. You couldn’t be deterred by his words, no matter what.

“Availability,” you said. “I’ve known Pip and his men for years. He was here when you went to Brazil.”

Now wasn’t that a thought for him to swallow? You with the skilled, perverted Frenchman who couldn’t seem to keep his eye to himself. It made sense, in theory; you had known him long enough to develop some relationship with him. Still, the thought made the vampire want nothing less than to rip Pip limb from limb.

Could this be how you felt…?

No. He convinced himself that his circumstance and the one you had just now fabricated were different. You were only trying to get a rise out of him.

“You wouldn’t let him touch you,” he replied with a short cackle. “Not when all you want is me. No man could satisfy you when I’m in your heart, little (f/n).”

“If you’re so prominently in my heart, Alucard, can’t you see why you’ve hurt me?”

And he could. He could see, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to tell you that he could understand, either. It made everything a little more real. It made losing you an actual threat instead of a silly notion in your mind. You knew he wouldn’t admit it, either.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you said finally, running your hands through your hair. “Please, just get out of the way. We can talk another time.”

How could he refuse your request when you were looking like this? Dare he say, it harmed him to see you this way. It harmed him even more to know that he could do nothing to alleviate your agony - the same agony that he had a hand in causing.

Wordlessly, he moved to the side and let you access the door. Emotionlessly, he stood back and watched as you ripped it open, dragging your suitcase into the hallway, and slammed it shut behind you.

He would hold you to your word, that you would speak to him another time. There was still much for him to say, and much for him to make amends for in his way. Even if he wouldn’t admit his wrongs, he was willing to make an effort to show you what you were missing out on.

And if he ever caught that bastard Bernadotte with your perfume on his body, he would be sure to give the marksman something to cry about.


	10. Your Eyes II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW below.
> 
> Cheater!Alucard x Reader x Pip, in which reader uses Pip for relief and Alucard smells him all over you.
> 
> Part 2 / 3

“Are you sure about this, mon cherie? I certainly have no objections, but you seem… amiss.”

He had wanted you for years. When he had first seen you in action, he had told you of how you lit his loins on fire. I’m stereotypical fashion, you had served him a swift bonk on the head. At the time, you hadn’t seen him for what he truly was. At the time, you had been preoccupied with honing your skills so that you could adequately serve the Hellsing organization, as your mother had in her time. Then, upon receiving acceptance, you had fallen for someone the polar opposite of your honest self.

It had made you realize that you had been looking at the wrong man this entire time. It also made for some good revenge, seeing as the three of you often worked together. The thought that roamed your mind was; could you being doing this solely for the purpose of revenge rather than personal pleasure?

You didn’t want to hurt anyone by being selfish, particularly not Pip. You had known him for years before both of your emergence as members of Hellsing. You didn’t want to sacrifice his companionship for the woes of a broken heart.

“Ah, I don’t know,” you muttered, breaking away from a heated kiss with the man.

His hands remained on your backside as you sat naked in his bare lap. His erection was very clearly prodding at you, begging you not to change your mind. You wanted this and so did he; the difference was the reasoning behind it all.

Pip tilted his head to the side, curious. His red hair, messy and barely braided any longer, gave him the look of a typical farm boy from the countryside of Europe. He was ungodly handsome, with his quick wit and boyish charm. The eye patch didn’t look too bad on him, either. His bare body was riddled with scratches and scars from battles long passed, but you didn’t mind that much, either. It wasn’t like your form was any better. Being in a medical at Hellsing still meant that you had to get down and dirty with a gun every once in a while.

The man hummed as he lifted you off of his lap and onto the mattress. “Maybe you need some more time to process your relationship with him.”

Pip didn’t dare say his name. He didn’t need to. It had been no secret around the manor regarding how things had ended between the two of you, and you had told the marksman regardless. He had been there as a shoulder for you to cry upon, making himself available when he could to visit you in the medical centre during your shifts. You had worked through your breakup, of course; there hadn’t been an option to rest. Sir Integra had offered you a few days as a kind gesture but you had turned her down. At the time, you had figured that keeping busy was key. Now, you weren’t so sure.

It had been a month since the breakup and your heart continued to ache whenever you thought of your former lover. It didn’t help that you had to see him a handful of times per month, or that you had heard of him taking lovers of his own during missions. You supposed you would need more time to process everything, and that was okay. You didn’t feel defeated or lost; healing didn’t have a universal time limit. Nonetheless, it was upsetting that you couldn’t even have sex with a man you found attractive.

You sighed. “I really don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hey, hey.” Pip slung an arm around your shoulders as you covered up with his bed sheet. “You are not forcing me into something I don’t want.”

“But I think you want a little more than I’m willing to give right now,” you whispered, voice strained and weak.

He stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, a smirk on his face. “You don’t want to give me your body tonight?”

You giggled at his cockiness. “You know what I mean.”

“Ma belle, we can take the emotional part as slow as you wish,” he said softly. “Even if you are using me right now.”

Your eyes clamped shut and you exhaled hard. He knew what you were thinking and what you had been planning. You couldn’t hide your intentions from your longtime friend.

“It’s not right,” you murmured.

Pip rolled his eye and positioned you so that you were lying beneath him. His hair curtained your face as he captured your lips with his own once again. He had always dreamed of doing this with you, of claiming your mouth and giving you the passion you deserved. He didn’t care if you were using him for sex or revenge; that wouldn’t necessarily how it would always be between the two of you. As you realized you were better off without the vampire, your feelings would fade.

And if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t care if they didn’t. Having your body was more than enough for now. He had grown tired of sharing his bed with any attractive young lady from the street. If you were willing, the two of you could relieve each other more conveniently.

When he broke from the kiss, you were panting, arms around his neck, lips trembling in a silent plea for more. It was a welcome sight, much like the rest of you.

“If you don’t want this, tell me now,” he urged. “Otherwise, I want to hear you moan my name, mon rêve.”

That was enough to convince you.

———-

Your shift at the infirmary following your heated evening with Pip was long and relatively uneventful. The night shifts typically were unless there was a major event. Within the next week or so, you were told there would be more action. Thus, in the meantime, you occupied yourself by running experiments with some samples you had collected. Data collection and analysis were part of your job, after all.

As you placed the specimen down on your desk and got to work, your body felt warm and wanted - a beautiful change from how it had felt during the last month. Pip had lavished you with affection and love in all the right places, driving you to and over the edge many times. Just as he had always bragged, he was an excellent lover. You almost found yourself regretting not having slept with him sooner.

What was more, he didn’t seem to mind if you slowly or never developed feelings for him. This was a rather rare find and perhaps it would change over time. You had a feeling that despite his exceptionally masculine exterior, the man was quite tied up within his emotions. Alas, if that time ever came, you would be prepared for the talk; you were both reasonable adults. For now, everything was fine.

At that moment, Seras bursted into the room with the body of a soldier. You whipped around to greet her, grimacing at the blood that trailed across the floor behind them. This was going to be a messy one. Setting down your research, you made your way to them just as she laid him on a gurney.

“What’s happened?” You asked calmly, pulling on a pair of gloves and reaching for your medical mask.

Seras’ face was pained. “We were ambushed by an artificial vampire. There are two more soldiers with bad wounds. The rest…”

You nodded in understanding. The rest had died; this wasn’t abnormal, though it was difficult to say. You didn’t blame the kind-hearted vampire for her dismay. You could imagine that the woman probably haunted herself with the deaths of all those killed around her; you hoped she would grow out of this in time, for her sake.

“Okay, call nurses,” you commanded. “We’ll need a few more than me for this.”

“No problem,” she confirmed, racing toward the nearest phone.

You wheeled the soldier to one of the curtained stalls, preparing to cut his uniform and assess his wounds. From what you could tell, he wasn’t in eminent danger, just a lot of pain. You could fix that with a shot of morphine.

The doors behind you slammed open again, likely with the remaining soldiers. You had an idea of who was carrying these ones, but you didn’t want to pay him any mind. That was, until you felt him behind you.

“Where do you want these?” Alucard asked with a gentle smirk.

“Each on an empty gurney,” you replied, waving your hand dismissively. “I don’t care where.”

He hummed and did as you asked, only to return by your side as you cut the soldier’s uniform from his body. You could have done without his hovering but work was work; sometimes you had to do your job under immense pressure.

He was quiet for a time, merely observing you as you worked. As you removed three bullets from the soldier’s body, cleaned his cuts, and successfully stabilized him, you sighed.

“Do you need to be here?” You inquired with a frown.

“You slept with him,” he said in response, ignoring your implicit plea for him to leave.

You pursed your lips. You had known that he would be able to tell. Was this truly what you had wanted, for him to detect this and ask you about it? Now, you weren’t so sure.

“Why are we discussing this right now?”

“You won’t talk to me any other time but when you’re tending to Hellsing’s weaklings,” he chuckled humorlessly.

Was he… angry?

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you stated simply. “Nothing that’s happening in my life right now is any of your business, other than what happens at work.”

“You slept with him at work, didn’t you?” He grinned, but again you detected no amusement in his tone.

You walked away from both him and the soldier, leaving the poor injured man to rest. Alucard followed after a few moments, realizing that he could get you alone since the help had arrived. He really did want to converse with you about the way things had ended between the two of you; he just wasn’t sure how. In reality, there was no way for him to make things better. Maybe he didn’t even want to. Maybe he was just pissed that the one who got away from him was seeing one of his colleagues.

He wouldn’t have called it jealousy. Then again, he didn’t fancy calling the feelings he had for you love, either.

“Come speak with me tomorrow morning, after you shower,” he demanded as you gathered the paperwork you would have to fill out for each patient.

You knew that he specified a shower because of Pip’s scent. Wasn’t this what you had wanted, having the vampire upset with who you chose to spend your time with? Now you knew you didn’t want this at all.

“I don’t have time to talk,” you murmured and froze when you felt a familiar, cold hand caress your cheek.

“That’s why I told you to meet me in the morning,” he said, voice deceptively soft. “That’s after your shift, my dear.”

My dear. He hadn’t referred to you as such in so long. Was it stirring up actual emotions or just memories of times you missed? Moreover, did you miss the vampire or the memories?

You knew this was coming, though. You knew he would want to speak with you sooner or later. Whether this was accelerated by your scent or if this had just been destined to occur, you were face with a difficult decision. You didn’t owe Alucard anything - not an explanation or closure. If you were going to meet with him, you would have to do it for yourself.

That was the hard part.

What did doing it for yourself really mean? Were you expecting closure, a one night stand, or an explanation to make it all better? Only one of the above was entirely acceptable, and even then, you doubted if he would admit to his wrongs. For all you knew, talking with him could be a huge mistake.

“I need more time,” you said finally. “I’m not ready to talk yet.”

You could tell that Alucard wasn’t happy with your response. He was used to getting his way immediately, everyone else be damned. He wanted to speak with you now, not on a whim. He would be lying if he admitted it wasn’t because he was craving you, but there were other important reasons for the discussion, too. Couldn’t you see that?

“You’ve already started seeing another man,” he snarled. “You’ve had enough time.”

You gazed at him and all his audacity with a disgusted expression. Did he seriously come into your workspace and demand that you do as he asked? You didn’t understand why he was so adamant about discussing your relationship within the next few hours, especially after it had ended due to his actions.

Did he miss you…?

You shook your head to remove yourself from your boggled mind. It didn’t matter if he did or if he didn’t. You had to look after yourself first.

“I said I’m not ready, so that means I’m not ready, Alucard,” you insisted firmly. “It’s not fair that you’re trapping me at work and demanding that I speak to you.”

“She has a point, master,” Seras chimed in, having jogged over within the last few seconds to see what the commotion was about.

Alucard glared heatedly at his fledgling, though said nothing. She meant well, you both knew, and your secrets were safe in her heart. You were grateful for her intervention here, as well; maybe it would help the vampire see how irrational he was being.

“Listen,” you growled, agitation still increasing. “I’ll find you when I’m ready to talk.”

“Do what you wish,” the man hissed, disappearing into a burst of shadows before your very eyes.

When he was completely gone, you mouthed a quick thank you to Seras before going back to your work. You had expected her to leave with her master, but she stood behind you for a while. There were words on the tip of her tongue; she just didn’t know how to say them. You were content to wait, though.

“He means well, I think,” she whispered eventually. “I don’t think he means to harass you.”

You shrugged. “Maybe.”

“He misses you, you know.” And you perked up at this. “He won’t admit it, but I can feel his pain.”

Your assumptions had been correct; he had been angry and he did seem to yearn for you. This was jarring, given how the relationship had ended. How could someone hurt their partner and then continue to be consumed by thoughts of them? You supposed you would never understand this much.

“I can’t return to him,” you found yourself replying. “But I appreciate your words.”

And it hurt for you to say that again, that you could no longer be with him. You hated that this was your reality, that you had been damaged to such a fine degree that you couldn’t bring yourself to trust or love him again.

Seras looked upset by your response. Nonetheless, she could understand where it came from. Wordlessly, you knew that she only wished for the happiness of those around her. She was the type of person to put herself out to ensure others were feeling good - you admired that.

“Have a good shift, (f/n),” she responded with a smile you could picture in your mind. “Feel better, too. Pip seems like he would be good for you.”

You knew she was right. You knew that the ginger was a great companion. You also knew now that he was a superb lover and could more than keep up with your desires. So, why couldn’t you get your head in the game? You knew why, of course; it was because you were still hung up on your ex.

You rubbed your temples and groaned. Maybe you would have to pay him a visit sooner rather than later, for your own peace of mind.

God, why weren’t these things ever easy?


	11. Your Eyes III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW below.
> 
> Cheater!Alucard x Reader x Pip, in which you know you have to talk to Alucard sooner rather than later. Nonetheless, doing so elicits some old feelings.
> 
> Part 3 / 3

“So, what will you do, ma belle?” Pip asked, lighting a cigarette. “Will you go to him?”

He rested an arm around his head while the other one settled around your form. You had situated yourself so that your head was resting on his chest and your legs were entangled with his. It was oddly comforting; you had never been in such an intimate cuddling position with a man before. Alucard had never been much for aftercare.

“I want to eventually, but not now,” you replied softly, nestling your head more into his muscular torso.

“Must you?” He pointed out. “Would it not be best to leave it as is?”

He was right, in a way. Perhaps it would be best just to leave things the way they had fallen. You would maintain a professional relationship with the vampire and move on. Your feelings would surely fade eventually.

“I don’t think he would let me avoid him forever,” you muttered with a grimace.

Pip chuckled, exhaling a plethora of smoke upon doing so. “Not avoid - you would tell him that you don’t want to talk.”

“Same difference,” you moaned, shaking your head. “He’s adamant to talk.”

You felt Pip tense as you said this, clearly disheartened by Alucard’s persistence. He knew why the vampire wanted to talk to you, and he could guarantee that there wouldn’t be a lot of talking if the bastard had his way. It wasn’t that he was possessive of you, it was that he knew Alucard to be a threat to your well-being. As he had stated to himself prior, he did want you; however, he wanted you to be happy the most. Thus, if you couldn’t find happiness by his side, as his petite femme, then he would begrudgingly let you go. That said, if you left him in favour of being with Hellsing’s trump card yet again, there would be trouble afoot. He would protect you as best he could.

“Let me speak with him this afternoon,” he declared, rubbing your back with a gentle, calloused hand.

“That’s probably not a good idea,” you sighed. “I didn’t tell you what I said to him the night we broke up.”

The man raised an eyebrow at that. No, you hadn’t told him much about the relationship or the aftermath. You had simply told him that Alucard had been unfaithful during a mission, and that you had ended things on that note. He didn’t really care about your past, but he was intrigued about what you had said.

“And what was that?”

You closed your eyes and tried not to feel embarrassed about it. “I told him that if it had been all right to fuck other people, I should have had sex with you while he had been gone for a mission.”

Pip froze for a moment before breaking into howling laughter. You rose a little from his chest to look back at him, smirking at his reaction. You had thought that he would get a kick out of that. It didn’t take away the humiliation that you still felt from that moment, but it did help your present mood.

“Ah, that was quite mischievous of you, mon amour!” He snickered at last. “But was there truth to your words?”

You sat up completely and eyed him with a small smile. “There might have been.”

He mimicked your gesture and brought you closer to him, embracing you gingerly. “So, you’re telling me that I wasn’t the only one?”

“I guess not.”

“Did you touch yourself thinking of me?”

“Pip!”

“Come now, you can tell me.”

And you knew you could. You knew you could tell him anything from your smallest insecurities to the heaviest secrets you should have taken to the grave. He was trustworthy, despite his womanizing behaviours. He wasn’t like your exes.

“Twice before,” you admitted, burying your face in his chest when he tried to beam at you.

“Ha! That fanged son of a bitch!”

You giggled as he peacocked. It felt good to be free and allow yourself to laugh. It felt splendid to just forget about the trials of life and love, to not worry about dying with regrets as you worked yourself to the bone. Nevertheless, at the back of your head, the idea of closure loomed. You would give it a few months, at least, before visiting him, but you would visit him.

Whether you still loved him or not.

\----

It agonized Alucard to know that you were probably with that bastard mercenary right now. It made his cold blood boil and his dead heart pound with the fury of a thousand steeds against his ribcage. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt this; perhaps during the first century of his undead life. He had entered the infirmary to find you after waiting two months for you to speak with him, only to find that you had taken a sick day. It shouldn’t have made him angry but it did.

Two months. Two months. You had some gall to keep the lifeless king himself biding his time with thoughts of you beneath him. Other people didn’t satiate him like you did. He only wanted to touch you. He was sure he could get you back into his bed with a few smooth words. From there, you would be under his thumb again. He would be able to keep you, as he had always wanted to, and abandon this silly notion of cheating.

He was sure he could make you see things his way.

“Seriously, Alucard. This is important.” Integra snapped when she noticed he wasn’t paying much attention.

“I apologize, master,” he grunted. “My mind was preoccupied with other matters.”

The blonde rolled her eyes. “Let me guess - (f/n)?”

He grinned at her quick wit and disregard for his emotional weaknesses. “Not important. Please, continue.”

When she was finished, he had managed to maintain his attention for long enough that he understood what she had planned. Then, his thoughts returned to you. Much to his chagrin, your new fling appeared before he could even fantasize about how he would seduce you. He hadn’t expected to see the marksman today.

Per usual, he kept his eyes locked onto the man as he passed. It wasn’t so much an intimidation tactic as much as it was to tell him he was being closely monitored, that the vampire could take what he pleased from the mere mortal with a flick of his claw. Pip didn’t generally react to him, though today was a little different. You weren’t around as you typically were, so he could afford to be ill-behaved without you biting his head off.

The mercenary knew that you didn’t want him to say anything to your ex. He knew that. But Alucard could keep a secret, couldn’t he?

“Ah, you’re here,” Integra greeted the ginger. “Took you long enough.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry,” Pip sighed. “I had some errands to run and a lovely lady to tend to.”

The thought of this wanna-be cowboy touching you was infuriating but he had to keep his composure. It wouldn’t do for him to explode with his master around. She would see that he was more of a wildcard than anticipated and restrict him for a time. No, he had to play his cards carefully. Oh, how he longed to be a free being again. Had this been during his reign as The Impaler, he would have had Pip promptly skewered from the anus up, still alive until he bled out slowly.

Pip watched Alucard’s demeanor change when he mentioned you. It brought him joy to have you as his partner, even if it had been short-lived. The two of you had been getting along just fine. After the first month and a half of seeing each other, you had finally agreed to go on a public date. Now, you were spending so much time in his accommodations that you knew some of his men on a first name basis. It was everything he had wanted, and it only brought him further glee to see Alucard squirm after what he had done to you.

In Pip’s eyes, the beast had made it difficult for you to trust anyone. He had taken away some of your innocence with his sin, and he had forced you to question your emotions at every turn. It had made things hard for the two of you. What he saw and what you saw were completely divergent. To him, you were a bright, beautiful young lady who had everything to offer. To you, however, you were nothing special - just one of the lead medical professionals in an organization dedicated to destroying supernatural creatures.

“Alucard can catch you up on my expectations for the next mission,” Integra said as she walked away from the pair. “I trust you to be adults.”

He nodded casually, not keen on getting the low-down from his rival but having no choice otherwise. Business was business, after all. He was used to dealing with scum.

When Integra had disappeared into a room elsewhere, Alucard’s red eyes locked with ocean blue orbs. There was a lot of tension between them, as anticipated, but it was Pip who made the first move.

“Are you going to tell me the plans so I can pass them along to my men,” the mercenary urged. “or is this something else you’re going to ruin?”

Within a blink of an eye, the man was propped up against the wall with the barrel of Alucard’s gun against his neck. His own pistol was wedged between the vampire’s breasts, ready to fire on a moment’s notice. He hadn’t expected him to lunge so swiftly.

“You think you can speak to me this way, you pathetic mortal?” He seethed, eyes feral.

“And you believe that you can speak with (f/n) after what you did?” Pip managed to grunt. “We both have audacity, vampire!”

Alucard growled lowly. Yes, the desire to kill this man was high. He knew he couldn’t, but perhaps he could convince his master that the marksman was expendable. Maybe he could-

“She will never be yours again if I can help it,” Pip snarled, shoving the undead being away from him and keeping his gun at his side.

Alucard allowed the pushback. In fact, he welcomed it. If they had remained there any longer, he might have done something regretful. He lowered his gun but kept it at his side, as well, because there were still room for mistakes this day. Towering over Pip, the vampire felt more powerful than he had in a long time.

“You don’t have the right to touch what was once mine,” he hissed. “What’s still mine. I can feel her heart speed up when she sees me. I can see her blush when I greet her. You’re a mere bed mate, marksman. You could never hope to take my place in her heart.”

Pip scowled. “I already have.”

And before he could stop himself, he raised his gun at the beast before him and damn near fired. If no one had intervened, both men would have been in shambles within the next minute and a half. Fortunately for them both, Integra hadn’t strayed far.

“Alucard, enough!” The woman shouted, rushing up the hallway. “Bernadotte, lower your damned gun!”

Before he could receive an earful, Pip did as he was told and immediately turned on his heel. Business was business, all right, and though he had thought himself to be a reasonable man, he had nearly fired his gun at a vampire over a woman - a special woman, albeit. Didn’t he value his life more than that? Hadn’t he promised you that he wouldn’t start anything with Alucard?

He groaned as he made haste away from the scene. There was no doubt that you would hear about this. When you did, you would be livid. You probably wouldn’t want to see him for a time, and if Alucard chose this time to strike then there was a good chance he would lose you.

He shook his head at that, trying not to catastophize. He couldn’t afford to get anxious over would-be situations, much like he couldn’t afford to get a talking to from his boss.

\----

“Hello?” You answered the phone groggily.

“(F/n), get over here,” Integra demanded on the other line.

Your head rolled backward on the couch. Of course you couldn’t have one day off.

“Is it urgent?” You inquired, trying to determine how much time you could waste getting to the estate.

You had taken the day to visit the doctor for a routine checkup. Then, you had decided to spend the rest of the day and evening at your friend’s apartment, snacking, napping, and catching up. Pip had probably given Integra your friend’s telephone number in case of an emergency, which you assumed this was.

“Pip nearly shot Alucard,” she said, annoyance in her voice. “I’d say that warrants hurrying up.”

“Okay, wait. What happened?”

Integra huffed into the mouthpiece. “I’m not sure. They’re being rather quiet about the situation.”

At once, you understood a degree of what must have occurred. One of the men must have piped off about you, by which the other had lashed out and commenced a grand argument. The fact that Pip had almost been the one to fire told you that Alucard must have said something nasty.

“Jesus,” you moaned, rubbing your temples. “I’ll be there soon, but I want another day off next week for this.”

“That’s if you solve this,” your boss replied.

You knew exactly what you had to do. It was something you had seen coming for months, now. You would need to talk to your ex at long last; this would put all of your feelings to rest and hopefully defuse whatever was between him and Pip.

Your heart was pounded at the mere notion of walking down to the basement and knocking on his door. You had been putting this off. You knew that something would eventually force you to face the music, however. You could deny your fate no longer.

Inhaling sharply, you told Integra that you would see her soon. With that, she hung up, leaving you alone on your friend’s couch, utterly confused and a complete mental mess.

\----

You smashed your fist against Alucard’s door with enough fury to dent the wood. No doubt, he would be impressed with this rather than deterred. It didn’t take him long to answer, as if he had been anticipating you. Perhaps that was why he had picked a fight with your current lover, to draw you to him. He grinned when he saw you standing before him, arms crossed and frowning, thus proving your previous point.

“About time you came, my dear,” he purred, moving out of the way to grant you entry.

You stood in the doorway for a moment, contemplating what it would mean to go into his room once again. The memories would come flooding back, as would your emotions from that day. He wouldn’t be apologetic, yet again, and you would likely end up leaving unfulfilled.

Was it worth the added stress and pressure?

“I’m fine in the hall,” you asserted. “Integra told me about you and Pip.”

The vampire’s expression changed to one of mild distaste. “Did you just come from seeing him? You smell like cigarettes and desperation.”

Your eyebrows rose at the insult. You hadn’t seen the mercenary since getting back to the manor. Alucard must have been smelling your shirt, which had come from Pip’s closet. Since the two of you spent most of your time together, it made sense that he had a few sets of clothes in your room, and vice versa. Maybe wearing this to visit your ex had been a mistake.

“Can you try to keep the peace, please?” You asked sincerely. “I don’t want to be involved in whatever is going on.”

He cackled at that. “I was content to leave things as they were but your boyfriend is persistent.”

Your jaw nearly dropped. You would need to fact check with Pip later, but this was interesting news. It was possible that you had gotten this all wrong. Why hadn’t you interrogated Integra upon arrival? She would have given you a clearer picture of who started what, at least.

“He’s a lover - not my boyfriend,” you heard yourself say, stunned at the sudden revelation that Pip was a wild card. “Can you tell me what happened?”

This was his opportunity to trap you and he knew it. Now that he had planted the seeds of mistrust in for someone other than him, he could invite you inti his trap with greater success.

“Come in,” he insisted, to which you shook your head.

“I said I’m fine out here,” you stated defiantly. “If you won’t tell me, Pip will.”

“Then why didn’t you go to him first?”

That was a fair point. Why hadn’t you gone to current lover before your former? Normally, you would have valued the marksman’s opinion more than Alucard’s.

“I don’t know,” you found yourself whispered, perplexed at your behaviour. “I guess I thought that you caused the altercation and went to you first.”

“How I adore the lies you tell yourself,” he cooed condescendingly.

He wasn’t wrong, though; what you had said was out half of the truth. You had come to Alucard before Pip because you wanted closure, and maybe a little more. Maybe there was a small bit of hope left in your heart for the two of you, that he would change and apologize, that you could trust and love him again. The place in your heart for him had grown stagnant since the breakup; perhaps he could revive it.

Every bone in your body screamed for you to stop as he stepped aside once more and let you wonder into his space. Every muscle cried for you to turn around a leave.

This was no place for you anymore. You were better than this. You had been better than this for months. Why were you so willing to throw all of your hard work away?

You stood in the middle of the large room and gazed at the bed. How many times had you lied there, head on his chest as he stroked your hair, listening to his deep voice rumble against his chest as he spoke of his victories. How many times had you sauntered over to the closet and grabbed one of his white button-up shirts to lounge around after a night shift at the infirmary?

You huffed and closed your eyes, trying to maintain focus on what that truly mattered: the altercation. You stood there for several moments before you were able to compose yourself. Alucard was surprisingly silent during that time, seeming to sense that you needed it.

It was because he knew you better than anyone else. No one would ever be able to crack you open quite like he had.

Reopening your eyes, you finally faced him. “Tell me what happened, now?”

He nodded, as if coming into his room warranted a reward. In a way, it did, didn’t it? That’s what he told himself. You had returned to him at last and you needed to be commended for this decision.

“Your lover told me that I ruined you,” he said.

“And you drew your gun?”

“I did, same as he. Then, I told him the truth.”

You deadpanned him. “The truth…?”

Alucard stepped closer and grasped your chin in his hand. You let him do it without so much as a grimace. He gazed down at you with lust in his crimson orbs as you tried to stop yourself from quivering.

“That he could never take my place in your heart,” he drawled confidently. “Am I wrong?”

He wasn’t wrong at all. Even if you factored out that you no longer loved Alucard, the memories that you had with him were irreplaceable. You didn’t seek out a partnership with Pip to mimick your relationship with the vampire; you sought it out for many other reasons. First and foremost, you thought he could help you heal - and he had.

You moved his hand from your chin and shrugged. “He’s not your replacement; he’s my improvement.”

And that hurt his undead soul. You could tell by the way his smirk was wiped completely from his pale visage in one fell swoop. You backed up a bit to create some distance. You weren’t sure you liked the idea of him touching you right now.

“Improvement?” He asked, voice cold.

“That’s right,” you confirmed bravely. “He’s helping to repair what you damaged with your selfishness.”

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he meditated on your words. They were subjective in nature. He certainly didn’t agree with them. In his mind, the man was nothing more than a worm, but maybe he thought that because he was… jealous? No, that wasn’t right - he was possessive of you.

“This again,” He growled. “I could have lied to you, little one. I admitted my sins.”

“Yes, but you still did it, Alucard,” you explained. “You still cheated on me, and then you tried to tell me that we weren’t in a monogamous relationship at the time. How am I supposed to trust you?”

He grinned. “The same way you trusted me enough to enter my domain.”

You threw your hands in the air and shook your head with immense disdain. He would never get it and you had just wasted more of your time trying. The definition of insanity was doing the same thing multiple times and expecting different results. By that logic, you had cracked months ago.

“Okay, this was obviously a mistake,” you grumbled, making your way around him and toward the door. “Thanks for telling me about the altercation, anyways.”

He grabbed your wrist as you were about to leave, yanking you back toward him in a manner that made your arm ache. Before you could scream at him for being such a brute, his lips were against yours and his arms were grasping your body against his with such passion, that you nearly forgot you had broken up.

Nearly.

“What… are you… doing!?” You muttered between kisses, and yet your arms did nothing short of wrapping around his neck to keep him close.

He continued his assault on your mouth, smothering you with his lust. It was a last ditch effort to keep you in his room, just for a few hours, so he could show you where you belonged. It would be an exhausting journey, convincing you to remain with him, but he was up for it. Over the last while, he had grown to crave you more than ever. This told him that you were special, that he ought to hold onto you. He would never tell you this, however; not unless you threatened to leave. He much preferred to keep these things in his back pocket. The less he shared about his emotions, the better.

You, though - he wanted you to spill everything to him. He wanted to see how you worked and what irked you even more than he had already learned. This knowledge would be useful. This knowledge could be used to manipulate you in the name of love.

You didn’t object when he lifted you by your bottom and carried you to the bed. Your hands entangled themselves in his dark hair, caressing his scalp as you had always done. God, how he had missed that. When he laid you down on the mattress, he ceased his kisses to gaze at your innocence. You stared back at him with uneasy, clouded eyes. You wanted this so much, perhaps as much as he did. How long had you yearned for him to satisfy you? How long had you waited for him to love you again?

“I’m glad you’re starting to see things my way,” he commented slyly.

You frowned. “Don’t push it. This is just-”

“A one time deal?” He laughed cruelly. “Of course it is, my dear.”

Really, you weren’t the type of person to go back to their ex and sleep with them. Even in your most desperate times, you had managed to avoid doing this. The difference between Alucard and the others was large, nonetheless; you had desired him more than any other during your relationship. It was as if you had idolized him and unconsciously placed him on a grandiose pedestal in your mind.

You had been foolish to think you could have ever walked away from him, and you would see this in the coming weeks. When the sex with Pip turned sour and you found your thoughts always shifting to your vampire, you would understand that you were his.

You had always been his.

As he slipped a skilled hand beneath your bottoms and relished in the sweet little sounds you made as he worked you over, he felt determined to remove the other man’s scent from his precious little belonging.


	12. Anderson: Verses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anderson x Reader, in which you use the Lord's name in vain and your husband teaches you a lesson.

“Ah, Jesus,” you whispered, staring at the pieces of onion you had spilled on the kitchen floor.

Your husband sighed on the armchair behind you, shaking his head and mumbling a prayer to himself. He hated it when you used to Lord’s name in vain, but sometimes the situation just called for it. Besides, you didn’t see it like that. It wasn’t like you were insulting the Lord or anything. Perhaps you couldn’t understand his concern because you weren’t a priest.

“Sorry, sorry,” you groaned. “Bad habit.”

“You’re driving me crazy with it, lass,” he grumbled, eyes focused on the religious text in front of him.

“I know.”

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good,” he muttered, glancing up at you. “Romans 12:21.”

You blinked. “Okay, I’m not sure I’ll overcome evil by using another word to express my distaste for things.”

He exhaled again, this time closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. He got up from his seat and made his way over to you as you picked up the spilled pieces of onion. He watched as you worked for a time before speaking up.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:5.”

You rose a brow at him as you chopped carrots. “Another verse?”

He nodded with a small smirk. With his glasses shadowing his eyes, he looked about as sinister as he was when fighting Alucard. It was unnerving, though you knew he would never turn his blades to you. Nonetheless, he had a trick of some sort up his sleeve.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life,” he stated from heart yet again. “Ephesians 2:8.”

“It’s amazing how you remember all of these,” you acknowledged despite your annoyance. “I can’t even remember a phone number.”

He nodded. “Cast all your anxieties on him, for he cares about you. Peter 5:7.”

“You can stop now.”

Still, he commenced, reading off two and three more Bible verses. He knew that it didn’t sit well with you, to hear so many of his quotes. At the beginning of your relationship, he had made at least four per day. You understood that it came with his line of work, but boy was it agitating some days. He had agreed to cut down on his whimsical banter, for a price. He demanded that you not use the Lord’s name in vain and that you cut down on your cursing.

You supposed he was using his quotes again to show you how it made him feel when you backed down on your end of the bargain. Most people wouldn’t have expected the priest to be as petty as he was. His passive-aggressive attitude knew no bounds, much like his aggressive battle tactics. By the time he was on his tenth Bible verse in a row, you were practically begging him to cease.

“I give in!” You wailed, clutching the counter as if in terrible agony. “I’m sorry, Alex! I am!”

He paused a moment, grin only growing. “Are you, lass? How sorry?”

You moaned, picking yourself off the counter and throwing yourself at his open chest. He caught you in his arms and held you against him, trapping you in an embrace. He was so much bigger compared to you. You couldn’t believe that you had once been petrified of the man.

“So sorry. I won’t do it again,” you whined. “Just please stop.”

He laughed genuinely, a sound you didn’t hear often enough. It seemed as though driving you up the wall with irritation had put him on an excellent mood.

“I’ll stop,” he conceded. “But as soon as I hear you break you end of the deal again, I won’t hesitate to use Esther 8:9.”

“That’s the longest verse in the Bible!” You exclaimed, to which he patted the top of your head endearingly and smiled.

“Better stay in line, then, eh?”


	13. Anderson: First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW below.
> 
> Anderson x Reader, in which he finally gives into sleeping with you before marriage.

He didn’t know anything about religion. He didn’t know anything about Catholicism or the supernatural, nor about abstinence or purity. In this moment, all he knew was that her dress was hugging her hips so right. All he knew was that she was his fiance, that she loved him, and that she was to be his forever. All he knew was that he wanted forever to be now more than ever before.

“Alex, can you take me home?” You asked as the two of your stepped out of the gathering.

He hummed, snapping out of his hazy head and shifting his focus back to the present. “Come on then, lass.”

You smiled warmly and took his extended hand, following him down the winding streets of London. Your home was not far from the evening church event. This was another thing he knew. You probably could have made it back without his guidance, as you were a little warrior at heart. Nevertheless, what sort of man would he have been to let you walk the streets, where supernatural heathens crawled, by yourself?

The way you walked entranced him. Your painted toes poked out of your heels, which elevated you to his height. The clicking and clacking of the heels only served to make him wonder how they would look if the rest of you was completely bare. The way you bobbed up and down, taking his arm to steady yourself when needed, drove him to the brink of insanity.

Just a taste, he told himself - just a taste would do, and then he could stop fantasizing about having you before marriage.

“Did you hear me?” You asked, shaking him from his cloudy thoughts.

He shook his head. “Sorry. Lost in thought.”

You smirked. “Thinking about work?”

For once, he was not. For once, you were the only thing on his mind, though he would never admit to this. He shook his head with a small simper.

“Tell me what you said, love.”

“I asked if you wanted to come upstairs for tea,” you repeated.

That wasn’t a good idea; this was yet another thing he knew. If he went to your apartment and took off his jacket, feeling the way he was right now, you would get more than what you bargained for. Surely you knew this. Surely you knew how difficult this already was for him; it must be just as hard for you.

Still, against all odds, he hummed, “I would, if you’re offering.”

And how had it gotten this way - him, between your legs, and you with your mouth agape, moaning at every thrust? How had he entered the house, had his tea, and then asked for dessert? You hadn’t had any pie or cake in the fridge. You hadn’t had any biscotti or tea biscuits. All you had had to offer was yourself, and he took more than you were perhaps willing to give in one night.

Amidst the soft I love yous and furious breathing, he allowed himself to moan. His length felt so good inside you. He had thought about this far too often, and yet the real thing had blown him out of the water. This wasn’t his first time deflowering someone but it would be the only one that mattered. Your whisperings of motivation and consent ghosted his ears like the regrets in his heart, except this was an event he would stand by - you both would.

He gazed into your eyes and you cupped his face as he prepared to spill his seed inside of you. You had seldom seen him without his glasses. You thought his emerald eyes were the most bewitching things you had ever seen. This connection that you formed with him as he covered his body with your own was like nothing you had established with any other. It finally felt as though you were getting to know your future husband.

You hugged him closer to you with your legs, wrapping them around his backside as his thrusting increased in speed. His lips touched your own gingerly, fleetingly, as if they had a secret to share. Your breathing hitch as he brought you to orgasm with the pressure of it all; the first man to do so. You didn’t have time to recover as you would have liked, though, for he was approaching.

You did what you could, tightening around him and forcing him deeper as your nails raked down his naked, perspiring back. You wondered how many others he had experienced like this. How many others had the paladin done this with, and had he graced them with the affections he granted to you? This intoxicating notion lulled you close to the edge again, his manhood hitting a spot deep within that made your head spin. Before you had the chance to realize this feeling, however, it was his turn.

You felt a rush of liquid hit your womb, filling you to the brim as he remained inside. He grunted against your head, inhaling your scent and letting himself fall. Even after all had been done, he kept himself still, shifting his head to gaze into the eyes of his fiance. You were so beautiful like this. You would be such a gorgeous young mother. He clasped one of your hands as he hovered above you, wordlessly telling you that this was exactly what he had needed.

“Will you stay with me?” You muttered, pressing a raw kiss against his lips.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, finally sitting up. He couldn’t stay with you tonight. It would raise far too many questions if anyone witnessed him. The church might be alerted and there would be trouble to come from that. His reputation would be on the line, as well as his ranking.

“I can’t, lass,” he murmured. “You know that.”

You looked a little hurt. Nonetheless, you did know that. You did know that he couldn’t sleep by your side tonight, and that he would refuse to do so until your wedding night. The line was always cut so firmly with Anderson. He did a great deal not to land himself into more trouble than he could climb himself out of.

With a sigh, you nodded compliantly. You couldn’t argue with him about his profession; it wouldn’t be fair for you to do so. He had pledged himself to the church first, and it had been you who had wanted him more fully. You had even converted to Catholicism for the sake of your marriage to him.

“Okay,” you acknowledged. “But on our wedding night, I don’t want your arms to leave me once.”

He couldn’t help the smile that came to his face. He hadn’t been planning on leaving you for a single night that he could help not wrapped in his embrace. He would tell you this during his vows at the alter, where you would no doubt blush and try it brush his words off as rehearsed. None of what he did for you was rehearsed, though. Maybe one day, as his wife, you would come to understand this.

“They won’t,” he chuckled lightly. “And I’ll at least stay until you fall asleep tonight.”

You brightened up at this. The only thing you wanted right now was to have him next to you on your mattress. Him offering to stay until you dozed off into slumber was the next best thing.

“Thank you,” you replied. “I would love that.”

“I love you,” he said huskily, kissing your forehead.

“Mm, that too,” you purred slyly. “I’m glad we did this.”

He looked at you with glassy eyes. “Are you?”

You thought about it for a moment. Sure, it had been unconventional. Sure, you had jumped the gun. What had made the moment irreplaceable for you were those two things.

You knew your fiance to be quite by-the-book, and you maintained that he didn’t break many rules if they had been imposed by his religion. The fact that he had thrown things down for you tonight, that he had taken a chance on his urges and allowed himself to love you beyond what the church had allowed him. Masculine urge or otherwise, you could tell that his actions had been centred around pleasing you. He had wanted to make sure that you felt as good as him.

Without any further thought, you giggled. “I’m glad my first time was with you.”

That night, it didn’t take you long to lull yourself over into a kinder dreamscape, one where neither of you had to worry about the supernatural or religious traditions. That night, as he petted your head and told you stories of his youth until you could listen no longer, you dreamed of bliss and unbridled freedom. You dreamed of a simpler time and a simpler world. A world made just for you and him.


	14. Anderson: Fissure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anderson x Reader, in which you're pregnant out of wedlock.
> 
> Trigger warning for talk of abortion.

He came home to his lover crying.

He could handle monsters, vampires, demons alike, but he had never wanted to come home to such a dreadful sight.

He had dropped his things instantly, rushing toward the couch where you sat, crumbled by some unknown tragedy that he was sure he could fix. He was a priest, after all; what couldn’t he do? Though, first and foremost, he was your husband. If he couldn’t cheer you up, then he was nothing akin to the proper man he had promised you he would be.

“Tell me what’s the matter, love,” he said softly as he cradled your body in his big arms.

Your sniffled, looking at him with glassy eyes. Your lips quivered and your nose was running. How long had you been like this? Why hadn’t you called him to tend to you?

“I-I…!” You couldn’t form sentences in your state.

“Easy now, lass. Breathe.”

You did your best. You always did your best for him, no matter the request. But would he still want you after this? The thought of losing him was hard to bear. You had only been his wife for one month and yet you felt as though you had been intimate with him for years. You didn’t want to ever miss out on the feelings that came from being with him.

“Okay,” you said between sniffs. “I have some bittersweet news and I’m scared of how you’re going to react.”

“Oh?”

And his tone was a little cold. He was likely expecting the worst. He was likely expecting you to tell him that you had been promiscuous. He often regarded you as his belle of the town, remarking that he had been lucky to scoop you up before anyone else could.

You cleared your throat and tried not to bawl. You couldn’t leave him hanging.

“Promise you’ll still love me,” you whispered. “Please, Alex.”

“I’m your husband, (f/n),” he murmured into your hair. “Even if I have to get a little strict with you, I won’t stop loving you.”

“S-strict…?” You asked with a tinge of fright.

He smiled against the side of your head to let you know he didn’t mean to harm you. It was as you had thought, he believed you had been unfaithful. Oh, how wrong he was.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he coaxed again.

You nodded. It was now or never. You just hoped you would be able to spit it out.

“Uh, well… I’m, uh, pregnant,” you managed. “With, um, your child.”

His smile shrunk and his grip on you tensed. For a moment, you thought he was angry. The way his chest rose and fell. The way his body started quivering. The way his mouth hung open. They were all signs of happiness. You knew this as soon as he tilted your head to meet his gaze.

His eyes were softer than you had ever seen them, and there was something indescribable embedded within them. You were content that he was happy with the first bit of the news. That wasn’t the part you were worried about, though.

“There’s more,” you muttered before he could say anything. “I didn’t get to the bitter.”

His expression changed to one of confusion. You bit your lip as you gazed into his face, fresh tears sprouting from your eyes as you clutched yourself closely. You already knew what the response would be. You already knew and you didn’t want to hear it.

“I’ve been pregnant for almost three months,” you whimpered.

His face lit up in shock as he figured out what you were trying to say. You had only been married for one and you had both taken vows to remain virgins until marriage. He had broken this vow many years prior to becoming a paladin, but you had been pure. Thus, you had both decided to wait to sleep with each other. It wasn’t like the church would have accepted a premaritally-conceived child, anyways.

One night, two months before the wedding ceremony, things had taken a turn for the worst when Anderson arrived home to you ripped to shreds. He had said it was due to a rough battle with Hellsing’s vampire. You had been horrified for him in that moment. He was a regenerator, but you knew that even he had his limit.

He ended up recovering within the next hour or so, with you close by his side. The two of you had a passionate exchanging of words. This exchange quickly led to sex, which he had initiated with kind, comforting words and hungry touches. It had been a secret kept well. It wasn’t supposed to result in a child. He had rejected the contraception due to his standing in the church, but he had pulled out in time.

You groaned as you recalled the silly mistake. You should have been stronger. You should have stayed headstrong in your decision to wait.

“We can’t keep it,” wanted to escape from his lips as he, too, recalled that night. “We can’t keep it, you know that, don’t you (f/n)?”

You knew it. You knew that you couldn’t and yet you still prayed that he would grant you permission, that he would finally say a public fuck it to some aspect of his relationship with you.

Though neither of you spoke, the communication was clear. He didn’t want to say it. You wouldn’t dream of uttering it. He wanted to tell you to keep it. You knew he never would.

As you sat on the couch with your husband, both of your hands in one of his, you stared at each other longingly. This wasn’t right - none of this was right.

None of this was right.


	15. Anderson: Divine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW below.
> 
> Anderson x Reader, in which your husband shows you how much he appreciates you.

Anderson blew out the candle on his night table and pressed his head against the plush pillow. The mattress enveloped his form as he lingered there, feeling the weight of the day pour from his aching muscles. How he adored coming home from his work as a priest during the evening, eating a home cooked meal, and turning in for the night. He hadn’t been able to do it as often as he would have liked, particularly because business with Iscariot had been picking up.

Beside him, the bed was empty. Though still a comfort and luxury, which he gratefully thanked the Lord for, he couldn’t help but feel sour about the extra space. Of course, he knew it wouldn’t last long. You were just taking a shower before bed; it wasn’t like he had to sleep alone, as he typically did after a night shift. Perhaps he just liked having you close at all times. Perhaps he just loved feeling your presence behind him, shielding his body with your smaller one.

Perhaps he was just getting old and sappy.

He smiled at that. It was true. When he had married you, he had lost a most violent version of himself. At first, this had frightened him, for he had thought that to be a precious part of his identity. He knew better, now. He knew that he could still bring judgement upon those who required such, but that he could let go of the anger he had harboured for so long. Just spending time with you and growing to love your nature had done that. He was grateful to have someone like you in his life. He almost wished he had met you sooner.

He heard the door to the bedroom creak open then, and the soft padding of your footsteps creeping over to your side of the bed. You sighed softly, thinking he was asleep. For the next few moments, you buzzed quietly about the room. You pulled one of his shirts from the closet and threw it on, causing him to smirk. He loved it when you wore his clothing. They were always way too large for you, giving you a cute, mousey appearance whenever you put them on. He was fortunate to have such a breathtaking wife.

When you finally pulled yourself into bed behind him, he felt you kiss his cheek gently, so as not to wake him. He surprised you by reaching a large hand upward to stroke your face. You gasped at the sudden contact.

“Did I wake you?” You asked softly.

“No, my love,” he replied in a hushed tone, shifting so that he was on his back. “I was waitin’.”

Clad in nothing but a white button-up shirt and matching shorts, the sheets hugged his hips like a second skin. You licked your lips at the sight of your handsome husband, wanting nothing more than to leap atop him. You knew he was exhausted, though, and you never wanted to be a nuisance. Instead, you settled for laying your head on his chest and snuggling into his form. His arm looped around you and hugged you ever closer.

“I missed you today,” he murmured sleepily.

You smiled and glanced up at him cheekily. “You don’t usually?”

He chuckled. “I do, but today was different, lass. This morning, I wanted to stay in bed with you for hours.”

You rose an eyebrow. “And do what?”

But you knew. You both knew. It was the same thing you did with each other when he had the odd day off. Sometimes it would be filled with talking and drinking tea together. Other days, he would ravage you. This morning, he had been craving the latter. Rather than telling you this, be figured that showing you would be a better option.

Lifting your head from his chest, he positioned himself so that he was hovering over you, strong arms on either side of your shoulders and his face only inches away from your own. His glasses were off and his blonde hair was unusually messy, giving him a youthful appearance. You felt just as smitten with him as he was with you.

He captured your lips with his own and lowered himself so that you could feel how hot you made your husband. It brought you glee to feel your effects. You loved that you could make him want you so much, but you also knew that his lust didn’t ever overpower his affections for you. To him, those were more genuine. Unlike his youthful days as a vagabond and troublemaker, he couldn’t bring himself to sleep with someone he didn’t love anymore.

Once again, you had changed that for him.

When he broke free from your mouth, he cupped your face again and admired you in the faint light glittering by your bedside.

“I’m a lucky man,” he said in near awe. “I don’t know why He brought me to you.”

“Divine fate,” you offered. “I don’t understand it either, but I’m happy you chose me.”

There had been no other option for him - at least, there had been none that made sense. You were it. You were it and you must know this by now.

He kissed you again before raking his hands down your body. Your skin was smooth and the sounds you made forced his mind into a different realm of pleasure.

This was nothing compared to the years he would spend with you moving forward. He wanted you forever in his grasp, as his darling wife. He wanted to cherish you always and make you feel the magnitude of his love with each day that passed.

As he dipped down to kiss your stomach and give you a special little treat, he smiled warmly. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

You had no objections.


	16. Platonic Anderson: An Exercise on Exorcism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slight NSFW below because the demon has a mouth on it.
> 
> Anderson x Reader, in which you and your partner in crime enter a house to exorcize a demon.

You tried to calm your nerves as you stood on the corner of a quaint looking street in Northern Scotland. A cigarette fuming between your lips, you closed your eyes and refused to look at the house behind you. Your partner had already met the family and gone inside. He was just waiting on you enter with a good attitude, at this point.

Sighing, you crushed what remained of the cigarette beneath your foot, just as the rain started to come down. It was as if the universe was telling you to get your shit together and help exercise this demon. The young girl needed you. There was no one else she could turn to.

“Hurry up, lass!” Anderson called from the door, as if on cue. “We don’t have much time!”

You jogged up the front steps and entered the abode quickly and confidently, then. The parents of the child were frantic in their behaviours, running to and fro in a wild attempt to gather their things before evacuating. Anderson had ordered them to leave the house for two possible reasons.

The first reason, explicitly stated, was for their safety. The second, which was deeply implicit, indicated that the child may die during the exorcism. If the latter notion came to fruition, it could mean bad news for the Catholic church. The family may turn on them, believing that they had intentionally killed their daughter. It was easier to deliver the bad news to families when they weren’t present for the process. This way, you could spin a fresh story if needed. Some may have called this practice cruel, but Father Anderson called it kindness in disguise.

As soon as the family vacated the home, you didn’t waste time in climbing up the stairs to your target. Anderson whispered words of encouragement as you reached the top step, following by a shot prayer or two. He reassured you that you would be fine with him by your side, that it was his duty to protect you above all else. You wanted to believe him, but there was uncertainty in your heart. Exhaling, you shook the doubt away and placed your trust in Him. It wouldn’t do for you to enter the room with anything beneath a steadfast resolve.

Upon twisting the knob, you could feel it. The dread. The unhappiness. The death. You could feel it all.

“Weeeell, well, well; look who it is!” The entity exclaimed as you opened the door. “It’s Father Anderson and his little Catholic slut!”

You couldn’t be angry about such a comment. You knew it emerged from a place of despair and not necessarily the heart of the little girl. Demons played these sorts of games with people all the time. They tried to determine what sort of reactions they could get, capitalizing on vulnerabilities that peaked through the cracks of even the holiest of men.

“And from where did you come, filth?” Anderson asked calmly. “Why did you inhabit such a weak creature if you are as great as you claim?”

The little girl cackled, throwing her head back painfully for added effect. “This is only the beginning, Father. This child is where it starts - not where it ends. Neither of you can rip me from her without killing us both.”

The blonde paladin turned to you with a look of sadness. You knew that this might end in tragedy, as well. There was nothing that could be done sometimes.

“Let us begin, then,” you murmured, locking away the sorrow in your heart.

You approached the bed where the girl had been tied down by her family. Unlike the usual ropes, they had managed to find chains, installing them to the wall behind her bed once they discovered her change… or, perhaps more grimly, the chains had been there prior to the child’s ailment.

Opening the Bible, you began chanting verses from a section specified by Anderson. This was only the beginning and you were doing quite well. Pride welled in your chest as you continued your dialogue through the demon’s prodding. You could hear the pain in its deep, inhuman voice.

“Weak, weak, weak!” It howled. “You’re so fucking weak, exorcist!”

Meanwhile, the paladin lit candles at the four corners of the room. He was preparing for a large, long ceremony. He had a feeling that this demon would be difficult to the bitter end.

“Are you lonely these days, Father?” The creature asked, morphing the little girl’s face into something akin to true evil. “Do you miss someone touching you at night?”

You tried not to listen. You tried desperately to keep your voice steady. Anderson didn’t reply, instead lighting the third candle with solemn eyes. You could have sworn you had seen his lips twitch downward at the mention of missing someone.

The man had plenty of skeletons in his closet, some that you didn’t even have an inkling about. Being partners for as long as you had been, he had shared many of his deepest, purest moments with you. From the hurt in his childhood, to the love he felt from God, to the pain of losing his morality - you had heard countless of his regrets and passions. Still, there were things that he would undoubtedly take to the grave; things that he didn’t dare tell a soul. Demons were good at detecting these things far earlier than the person’s own companions.

“Do you think of fucking (f/n) like you fucked her?” The beast jabbed again. “Did you think about digging up her grave when they buried her, just so you could-”

“Silence, demon!” Anderson shouted, lighting the final candle.

You continued reading the verses while listening to the heated mental battle occurring in front of you. You didn’t know what woman the monster was referring to, but you could tell she was a sore spot for your partner. There was probably a sensitive reason as to why he had never mentioned her.

The demon cackled heartily, gasping for breath as you slammed a cross down against their forehead, closed the Bible, and chanted prayers from memory. It gargled and spat blood at you, but still you did not skip a word. The radio started playing across the room, the Bees Gees nearly deafening you.

Ah, ah, ah, ah.

Stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive.

You nearly laughed at the audacity of this beast.

The lights began to flicker and you knew that you were doing something right. Your voice here louder as the thing screamed in agony, writhing about the bed like a fish out of water. You watched in vague horror as it snapped one of the little girl’s arms to twist the limb from its binding. The small hand grabbed the front of your tunic and yanked you close to its twisted face. You didn’t cease chanting, even though you were about to piss yourself.

The demon tilted its head to the side in mock contemplation, humming a section of Debussy’s Clair de Lune before licking the side of your cheek. That’s what made your breath hitch. You nearly vomited at the stench of its rancid breath and the sliminess of its long, chameleon-like tongue.

“Do you want Daddy Anderson to fuck you?” It drawled. “I bet it’s been so long since someone stretched that-”

You smashed the host across the face with the Bible that was still in your right hand, successfully wrenching yourself from its grip. Before it could react, you felt Anderson grab you by the wrist and tug you toward the door. Ripping it open, he tossed you into the hallway and swiftly followed suit. You were both panting dreadfully.

“I almost had it,” you muttered between breaths. “I lost it when it-”

“You were reckless!” The paladin seethed. “It could have snapped your neck that close!”

You shot him a look of disbelief. What had he wanted you to do? This was an exorcism. Your life would always be on the line during these things.

“I didn’t want it to hurt you anymore!” You cried. “I don’t know what it was talking about, but you looked so… lost.”

He closed his eyes, remover his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The topic was evidently quite troubling. You weren’t sure if he was even going to talk to you about it, but you wanted him to know that he could if he ever wanted to. You would never say it, but this man had become your best friend over the past few months. From eating lunch with him to wishing him well on his missions with Iscariot; you two spent a lot of time together. You didn’t know if he cared for you the same, though you knew for certain that he trusted you more than most.

And this was more than enough for you.

“I’ll tell you about it when we’re not waist-deep in sin,” he murmured finally. “For now, let’s just agree to keep our wits about us.”

You nodded in agreement. “Deal. I won’t be reckless if you agree to turn off your emotions. At least, for now.”

He flashed you a genuine smile and your heart felt full. You were glad to have him on your side. The man was terrifying, of course, but you were learning that he had a big heart.

As you walked back into the room, you made the mistake of trying to close the door behind you. The moment your hand touched the knob, you were tossed into the hallway. Your side hit the wall at full force, no doubt damaging a few of your ribs. You screeched bloody murder at impact, feeling the pain of a broken arm immediately. Still, you got to your feet and slammed your body against the closed door.

“No!” You cried, trying the knob as if you thought that the demon would have left the door unlocked after a stunt like that.

“Don’t worry, lass,” Anderson hissed from the other side. “I’ll be fine without your meddling!”

You gaped at the door like a fish out of water.

“My what!?” You shouted, backing away from the entrance. “You’d better stay alive, so I can yell at you later!”

And he kept that implicit promise to you as he smirked at the demon that hovered above the bed before him. He was content to be facing such a terror without you. He didn’t want you to see him this infuriated. He never wanted you to be scared of him. His closest confidant, all he wanted was for you to be safe.


	17. Hurts so Good I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW below for hate fucking.
> 
> Anderson x Vampire!Reader, in which the paladin realizes he shouldn't be sleeping with the enemy.

Anderson couldn’t believe how far he had allowed things to get with you. He, a man of God, had been seduced by a bloody monster of the night, the very things he had sworn to destroy. Not to mention his vow of abstinence, with a human or otherwise, had been broken. If he didn’t have his morals and his motivation for maiming the filthy undead, what did he have?

You - he only had you.

And that was what you had wanted, wasn’t it? Perhaps you hadn’t realized it would get as far as this, either, when you had made those little suggestive comments in battle. You were used to being flirtatious; it was part of your nature. Never had you given on so thoroughly, though, and no less to a mangy human. What made it different than your usual flings was that he matched your strength. A regenerator, he could take anything you threw at him. That was how he had entrapped you.

Backing you into a corner, he had stabbed you through the arms with his bayonets, cackling wildly. He had asked if you had any final requests, seeing as you had put up such a grand fight for him. Of course, your raunchy nature knew no bounds and you hadn’t expected him to actually follow through.

“Yeah,” you had hummed,blood dripping down your handsome visage. “Fuck me, Father.”

He didn’t know what had come over him, then. Perhaps it was the tension from finally having you in his deathly grasp after so many years of chasing you, coupled with his vow to abstain from premarital sex. At the time, it had all seemed so fluid. He had grabbed you by the collar of your torn shirt and slammed you face-first onto the lectern. He had entered you within seconds of your demand, in a fucking church, no less. On holy ground, he had ravaged you for hours, and in the end, what had he done?

He had released you… in more ways than one.

The next time the two of you met, it was the same thing. Soon, it became commonplace for you to meet in the same church and continue this disgusting little secret. No one else knew of your encounters. If he could help it, no one would ever know. He would rather kill you on the spot while his manhood still deep inside you than have a member of Iscariot discover his deeds. This was something he told you quite often, as well. While hunched over, hands grasping your hips, sweat pouring down his face and chest, he would whisper macabre words.

“I can’t wait to kill you, lass,” he had uttered a hundred times over. “You don’t feel as good as salvation.”

“If that’s the case, then why do I make you cum so hard, Father?” You would always drawl back, making him pound into you harder.

Snapping his hips forward abruptly would always serve to shut you up.

Even now, as you kneeled between his legs and licked him up and down like the sweetest popsicle you had ever tasted, he wondered what the hell he was doing. It would be so easy to kill you where you sat right now. One swift chop and your head would come clear off.

He clutched the back of your skull and forced you to take him deeper. Why couldn’t he do it? Why couldn’t he kill you? This had gotten to be more than just a lustful meetup between two enemies. This had become something dangerous, something he had thought himself to be incapable of.

It wasn’t anything he would ever tell you, even if confessed the same feelings to him. No - for now, this was more than enough.

Maybe too much.

Definitely too much.

He groaned as you took him down your throat to the hilt, gazing up at him with the same seductive eyes that had tended to his initial downfall. Sometimes, he wondered what you were thinking. Did you know how terribly wrong this was? Did you care? Hearing you speak on many occasions after sex, he knew that you were capable of comprehending right from wrong. He also knew that beneath what you were, you had something of a large heart. It was albeit jaded, but still something that he dared to admire.

He closed his eyes and lulled his head back, keeping your head in place as he came. Like usual, you took all of what he had for you, and more. Singlehandedly, you were taking everything from him. You were doing something that even Alucard couldn’t have ever done.

You were giving his body and mind a run for their money.


	18. Hurts so Good II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW below.
> 
> Anderson x Vampire!Reader, in which you try to entice your paladin during one of his sermons.

It was five o'clock in the morning and Anderson hadn’t slept a wink. The birds were the only company that lingered alongside him, in the trees that sprouted taller than he and gave more life than he ever could. He had always prided himself on being early, even if it costed him his sanity or wellbeing. Being a priest was as serious as God, himself, and he had to set an example.

Rain or shine, he always got up this early to prepare for morning service. People would begin to arrive around six thirty, giving him roughly an hour and a half to tidy up and organize his sermon. Some of the daily members only came for him, he knew; for his performance and delivery of holy verses. He couldn’t rightly disappoint them. They looked up to his feigned purity and goodness, after all.

He scratched his neck gingerly, moving up his heavy jacket to conceal the hickeys on the flesh around his collarbone. Those were the cause for his exhaustion, though as much as he hated to admit it, he liked how they felt. Bruises from battles past were more raw and less pleasant. With these, there was a sort of soreness to them that he hadn’t felt since he was a lad. It was no secret that he had gotten rather addicted to receiving more than giving them. It wasn’t like he wanted to mark a filthy whore of a vampire, anyway.

As he walked up the steps to his kingdom, he lamented on the events of the night and early morning. He had had so many nights like this now that they were starting to blend together.

He had found you in a cemetery just outside of town. You had claimed that you were visiting someone important, though he had challenged you on such. Within minutes, a fight had broken out between the two of you, his bayonets shredding your undead skin while your claws had dragged down his chest.

The battle ended the way it always did, with you face down in the dirt, pants and panties around your ankles, screaming and moaning about how good he felt kissing your core with his manhood. His knees were still feeling the sheer force of his thrusts as he walked. That’s what he got for abiding by a greedy vampire.

The point still stood that he knew he shouldn’t have started messing around with you in the first place. You were placed before him as a temptation from God continually, and it was a test he had failed far too often. He pondered if he was fit to be a priest at all. He thought that perhaps he should resign one of these days if he couldn’t give up his desires. He was a piss poor holy man.

But that was what you wanted, didn’t you? You had even said it to taunt him a few times. You knew of your divine purpose to thwart him - you must.

“Does fucking me make you want to fall from grace, Father?” You had moaned on more than one occasion, either bouncing up and down on his lap or throwing your legs over his shoulders to better accommodate him.

You were met with a harsh open-palmed slap with every quip, though it did the opposite of what he wanted. In fact, it only ever served to arouse you further. Never had he seen a woman with such wanton, masochistic passions. It made him want to wring your neck as much as it made him want to shove himself down your throat to cease your babbling.

He growled to himself as he unlocked the door to the chapel and let himself in. Electing to keep his jacket on today, he turned on the lights and headed toward the broom closet. The structure was completely still. The occasional scurrying of a mouse could be heard against the aged floorboards, a sound that he had grown used to. It was calming on mornings when he couldn’t quite get his head together. Picking up a sweeper, he started near the lectern and moved his way down the aisles, trying to quell the lustful thoughts in his mind.

When the clock shifted to six thirty, the first of the older, matronly ladies started to arrive. They chattered amongst himself after bidding him a good morning, giving him the added background noise he needed to stop imagining you in all the places he had previously taken you.

At least, until he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned, prepared to greet yet another guest for the impending sermon. Instead, he was met with an all too familiar face paired with atypical garb. His mouth ran dry and his eyes nearly bulged from his skull. He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and demand that you leave immediately, but there were far too many witnesses. You were still a beast despite the control you let him have when you were spread open. You could kill everyone here if be caused a scene; hell, you might do it regardless of whether you were prompted to or not.

You stood before him, more clothed than ever before. You wore a long black skirt that met your ankles, paired with a tight white blouse that was a little too transparent. He instantly noticed that you didn’t seem to be wearing any under garments. A black, wide-brimmed hat clouded most of your face and there was an umbrella in your hand to conceal you from the sun. He huffed loudly, refusing to allow his eyes to roam a second time.

“What are you doing here, lass?” He asked, clearing his throat as he imagined lifting up your skirt and taking you on one of these benches.

Lass hadn’t been the word he had wanted to use. He would have much preferred to brand you a demon spawn slut. He wasn’t pleased about your appearance during the day even with the pleasure you brought to his mind. What were you thinking, coming to his ground and listening to his sermon? Your distaste for the Lord was evident based solely on your existence. Your goal was likely to disrupt him, as it always was.

“For service, Father Anderson,” you replied innocently, and God did it drive him wild how you drawled out his name. “What other reason would I be here?”

He leaned close to you then, still smiling widely from ear to ear. You tilted your head so that you could hear his deep whisper. His breath smelled faintly of peppermint tea and smoked whiskey.

“All are welcome in His home, vampire,” he muttered. “I can’t tell you to leave but I can tell you to behave.”

You pulled back and giggled, a mischievous look on your face. “Yes, He lives within us all, right? Though, I tend to think He’s lives in me more during some eve-”

He clapped his large hands in an attempt to muffle your words from the prying ears of the elderly folk. “Take your seat if you’re staying, then.”

He made his way to the front of the room and watched as the last of the people entered the room. You took a seat at the very back two benches away on both sides from anyone else. He was grateful for this. He didn’t want to think about you harming one of his sweet older members. You winked at him as he coughed and flipped to his bookmark.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I want to begin by addressing the unfortunate murders that have been occurring around this town and others,” he started, making eye contact with the front row. “I know it is easy for faith to dwindle during times of question and uncertainty, but we must remember that He lives within us. He is our Sheppard. He is our strength. He is our wisdom.”

You caught his attention when you started unbuttoning your blouse, one button at a time. He tried not to skip a beat. He tried not to linger. But damn, you sure made it difficult to be his best self.

“Let us remember that our fate is in His hands to mold as He pleases,” he continued. “That our lives are His to direct. While we should pray for the souls of for those lost in these tragedies, we must also remember that-”

You had completely undone your blouse, using both of your hands to spread it open and reveal your breasts. You massaged one, kneading it with delicate fingers, the opposite of what he always did with them. You bit your lower lip as you brushed past your nipple. He tore his eyes away when he realized he had been quiet for a few seconds.

“Excuse me, my friends,” he apologized to his church. “I seem to have lost my train of thought. Where was I, now?”

He tried to commence, eyes trailing down the page of his holy book with a sense of urgency. All he wanted to do was get the sermon over with so that he could-

What would he do this time?

Would he do as he had always done and indulge in your sweet, willing flesh, or would today finally be the day that you died? Better yet, perhaps he could do both. While he took you from behind, he could stab you through the heart with his bayonet and slit your pretty throat. That would end his need as well as his problem.

“We must also remember that everything is His will. We will pray for them because we love them. Because we are all united. Because we mourn their pain.”

The members lowered their heads and closed their eyes in silent prayer for the fallen. He had tried to, himself, but he hadn’t been able to stop staring back at you. Your perfect body in that open blouse and long skirt was making his hard. You sat back in your bench, sliding the skirt up your thighs to rest around your waist. He had been correct in assuming that you weren’t wearing any underwear. You lowered your hand, running it sensually down your stomach to your womanhood.

“Fuck me, Father,” you mouthed soundlessly as you touched yourself.

“Amen,” he whispered just loud enough for the first and second rows to hear him.

“Amen.” They replied in rough unison.

“We will stay strong during this time, as it is His will,” he concluded. “Is there a member who needs our prayers this day?”

A woman in the second row raised her hand. He tensed. If he allowed her to speak, the front row would turn and see you in all your glory, fingering yourself to him wildly. Thankfully, a man in the front row raised his hand, as well. Anderson quickly chose him.

“Please, brothers and sisters,” he begged with sorrowful eyes. “Pray for my wife through her childbirth. The doctor said that there may be complications.”

The priest glared at you as you straightened yourself out again, buttoning up your blouse and tossing your skirt back down to your ankles. You nodded courteously at him when you were done, like the cheeky devil you were.

“Let us pray for Tim and his wife, Nina, this night,” the blonde priest declared. “I wish you, Nina, and your child good health, Tim.”

He heard from three more members before he was allowed to bring the sermon to a close. Many were suffering, including him. His came from a far different faucet than theirs, however; one that he should have been able to forsake by now.

As the people flooded slowly out the front doors, he wasn’t surprised that you sat unmoving in the back row. No one seemed to pay you any mind, as if you were a normal part of service. He wondered if you were working some kind of dark magic to make yourself blend in. He marched over to you as he closed the last of the doors, at that. His stride wasn’t as frantic as it typically was, though you couldn’t mistake the sense of urgency in his body language.

You signed the cross over your chest and pressed your hands together in mock prayer when he finally reached you. “Forgive me, Padre, for I have sinned.”

He boxed you into your seat, face looming inches from your own. He wasn’t taking any of your charades lightly today. You had truly struck a chord by attending his service. You should have known, honestly; men of God were always disgruntled when they didn’t get their way. Though, could he be referred to as a holy man if he had given himself to an abomination? You chuckled softly. There was a lot wrong with his thought process. It was as though he fancied himself to be higher than he was, perhaps as a coping mechanism for not quite reaching the standard.

“Reckless,” he hissed, grabbing your hair and yanking your head back to look at him. “What would the congregation have said if they had seen you, I wonder?”

You supposed that they would have stared in horror, clutching their pearls and nearly expiring from the sight. That was what most good Christian women did, after all, wasn’t it? You had never understood much about the religion. Anyone who inhibited themselves so strictly appeared as though they were hiding something. A clap across the face brought you back to the present.

“Skipping straight to the foreplay today?” You inquired cheekily, only to be met with a harder slap.

“Get in the confessional,” he commanded.

You grinned. “To confess my sins?”

You were amused when he smirked like the sinister man you knew him to be. “No, to get on your knees and take your divine punishment while I listen to confessions.”

One of his large hands gripped your chin before you could get up and scurry past him. You were nearly drooling at the prospect of taking the priest down your throat as he adhered to his duties. How many times would you make him cum? How long would he force your head down to the base of his crotch, slowly choking you until you could take no more?

“You’re going to regret interrupting my sermon today, you filthy, unholy beast,” he murmured with glossy, unreadable eyes before releasing you.

Somehow, you very much doubted that.


	19. Hurts so Good III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW below for hate fucking.
> 
> Anderson x Vampire!Reader, in which you get railed while Anderson listens to a confession.

“Forgive me Father, for I have sinned,” the young woman moaned in the confessional.

He opened the small slot separating his chamber from hers. Though she couldn’t see him shrouded in darkness, he could see her; not that he would let onto such, of course. These sorts of things were supposed to be confidential; he didn’t want members feeling nervous to confess.

The woman sat in the chamber with her head in her hands as she sobbed quietly. She seemed torn up about something, as many of them often were. Had she known what was happening between his legs as she spoke, she might have been even more upset.

“Tell me of your sins, my daughter,” he replied as he pushed your head down harder against his crotch.

He thrusted upward sharply, choking you and watching in bliss as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He held you there a moment, loving the feeling of his member spasming in your throat, before releasing you to breathe. You did so quietly, as per his request. Down you went again, trailing your tongue along his thick length and lightly pricking it with your fangs. He tried desperately not to moan as you milked him to the brink.

He adjusted himself so that he could force you in place once again as he thrusted down your throat. The unsuspecting woman next to him groaned on about how she was a terrible wife to her needy husband, much to his chagrin. He continued to listen to her woes even as his long arms slid down to your nipples, tweaking them as he came in your mouth at last. He revelled in how well you took the fluid, receiving it without a sound of protest at his feet.

He gestured for you to get up once you had swallowed and opened your mouth to verify. You nodded, climbing onto his lap as the woman droned on about not wanted to sleep with her husband. How ironic this confession was. Vaguely, you wondered if you could make him cum a second time during this session. Licking your lips, you were certainly keen to try.

Before dipping into you, he held you against him for a few moments. Your breasts pressed against his clothed chest and your warm womanhood dripped onto his bare thighs. You were begging to be fucked once again in his arms. Closing his eyes, he imagined that you were a mortal woman so that he didn’t talk himself out of the pleasure he knew you would deliver.

Yes, he was a holy man. Yes, his professional was to vanquish the supernatural. However, he was furthermore a man with needs. He had given his life to Jesus. He had dedicated his time to spreading His word and teachings. Didn’t he deserve to indulge unto something? Didn’t he deserve to fall from grace every once in a while? The work he did on a regular basis surely overshadowed his sins. These are the things he convinced himself of as he ran his hands up and down your undead body.

You were cold, like his heart.

His fingers teased your nipples more as he brought your chest up to his face. Leaning in, he took one between his teeth and gnawed. It was supposed to hurt. It would have hurt anyone else, but it only served to make you sigh. Fortunately, the mortal woman was too absorbed in speaking that she hadn’t seemed to notice the strange noise. He shot you warning glare as you stuck out your tongue at him defiantly. He would have to fuck that careless attitude out of you.

His hands went down your waist to your backside, gripping it tightly. He wanted so badly to strike it until it was red, until it was raw enough for him to use his belt and sore enough for him to drip hot wax over. For now, he would have to settle for this - driving you to the edge over and over again until you could barely take it. This would serve to both arouse him and put you in your place.

His large hand trailed down to your womanhood, rubbing the slit with a single digit. You were drenched already and you hadn’t even been touching yourself. He grinned as he dipped a finger inside and pumped it a few times. Your back arched and your muscles pulled him deeper. He inserted another one and paced himself as you held back small whimpers.

“I just don’t understand why he wants to sleep with the maid,” the lady cried. “Am I not good enough!?”

“Patience, daughter,” he said in a throaty tone. “Perhaps if you gave into his desires, he would remain faithful.”

It was faulty logic, but it was church logic. Clearly, the woman’s husband was a scumbag for cheating on his wife. He couldn’t say such a thing, however. Confessions were not therapy sessions; it was his job to give minimal, simplistic feedback rather than solutions. Besides, he was a little too busy at the moment to form concrete thoughts and opinions.

He felt you squirt onto his fingers as his thumb rubbed against your clit, successfully sending you over the edge for the first time. You quivered against his grand form, begging into his ear.

“Please,” you panted softly. “Please.”

It wasn’t common to hear you beg. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment or the risk involved with the present session. Either way, it lit his loins on fire. He wanted to hear you even more vulnerable than this. He wanted to hear you beg and scream for him to stop delivered such vibrant pleasure onto your pretty body. He wanted to descend with you, leading you into the depths of whatever void he was condemned to for the sole purpose of dominating you over and over again.

Suddenly, his plan of edging you had gone out the window.

He plunged you down onto his hips, snapping upward so that he hit that spot deep inside that made you writhe. Your mouth opened and you threatened to moan. He captured it with his own, in a heated, silent kiss. You gasped against his mouth, shocked that he was engaging in such an intimate gesture with the likes of you - the vampire Iscariot had requested him to kill.

“Father?” The confessor asked curiously. “Are you all right?”

Anderson shifted you on his lap and broke the kiss, stilling himself if just for a second. She had heard them at long last. Hopefully, he could brush it off as him feeling ill. Perhaps that would even get her to leave faster.

“Yes, I apologize,” he uttered. “I appear to have a tickle in my throat.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed as you tried not to snicker. “I hope you’re not coming down with something.”

He pulled you up and slid down own on him as he chuckled at the concern in her voice. He was coming down with something, all right - not that she would ever know what.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” he breathed when you tightened around his girth. “Please, continue.”

“So kind,” you murmured into his right ear as you wrapped your arms around his neck and prepared for the ride of your life. “What would they think if they knew you were fucking a vampire every other night, Father?”

His hand came down on your ass hard, and he passed it off as giving himself a good ole whack to heighten his attention. The woman bought it, while you nearly drooled at the aggression and the lie. It was amazing to see this side of your priest. You found yourself steadily becoming greedy for more.

He yanked your hair so that your head was jerked backward. He didn’t respond to your prodding with words; actions were sufficient enough. His onslaught of pounding was merciless and you couldn’t have been happier.

As he brought you to orgasm twice more, one hand kneeding your breasts while the other held you by your hips, you hissed. His lips found their way to your neck and bit down on the flesh hard enough to draw blood. The tables were turned, so to speak. Instead of you threatening to nibble on him, he was breaking into you. Maybe with a little more convincing, he would allow you to return the favour.

Was he that far gone yet? Did you want to risk the suggestions this early on and risk your pride?

You smirked. No; you would wait a little more and see what happened. You would wait to see if he tried to kill you tonight. You would wait to see if his views on the undead were even close to budging. The thrill of turning a priest into one of your kind was a turn on, to be sure, though you weren’t sure if you wanted this dirty little secret to end.


	20. Hurts so Good IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW below, mega angst.
> 
> Anderson x Vampire!Reader, in which Anderson grapples with the idea of killing you to put an end to his feelings.

He groaned as he took a sip of his whiskey. He wasn’t even supposed to be drinking; he was a priest. He had a reputation to uphold and morality that couldn’t be compromised. Hadn’t he already decayed himself enough? Hadn’t he put himself through enough internal discomfort at this point? Why did he always have to pursue pain?

Leaning his elbow against the wooden table and resting his chin on his palm, his eyes were drawn to the liquid in his small glass. When he was younger, he had gone out often for a drink or two at the local tavern every week. There was nothing better to do in his small town, and he hadn’t had any direction in his life. It had been work, spend, play, and repeat. His future had changed when he had truly found God one evening, in the gutter.

Nothing but a bastard, his neighbour had hissed that night, walking past his strewn form.

Won’t do nothin’ with his life, another had growled.

All of them had either stepped over him or kicked him in some sense of the word. None of them had helped him. Not one person had offered him a hand. The only one who had helped him see the light was Jesus Christ. He had appeared to him on the brink of hopelessness, granting him another purpose and new meaning. His light had shone brightly as Anderson had gazed up at the sky.

It had been unmistakeable to him, then - if he didn’t follow this path, he would die.

So, that’s what he did. He had dedicated his life to Him, committed himself to doing His work. He had operated an orphanage, where he had helped raise the notorious Enrico Maxwell as best he could, and many more troubled youth. Though, so soon after descending this path, he had also involved himself with darker dealings.

He gained his regenerative abilities this way, and found a new mission: to destroy all things unholy and supernatural in nature. He had seen vampires ravage towns and people he had once loved. He had been ships smash against cliffs from captains hearing the Siren’s song. He had witnessed family friends succumb to illnesses as the banshees wailed on the hills of sweet Ireland.

How could he have lost sight of these things - these things that drove him? He was never a man to give into his temptations; at least, not since finding God. Could it be that he no longer believed…?

He threw his head back and swiftly downed what was left of his glass. He couldn’t bear to think about such a thing. He couldn’t imagine…! And yet…

He sighed for the umpteenth time as he poured yet another shot of whiskey. This would be his seventh, and he was still lucid enough to remember who he was. So much for being a lightweight after abstaining from alcohol for years on end.

He didn’t know why he bothered to ask himself where it had all gone awry. He knew when it had happened. He knew and he didn’t want to face it, because facing it meant he would need to make a decision. Would he continue to sin or destroy his dearest temptation?

He knew the answer.

He knew as he despised it.

It was evident what he needed to do, but could he do it? Could he annihilate the woman who had enticed him so? A man weaker than him could not. He was stronger than that, though, wasn’t he? He knew better. He was loyal to the Catholic church and Iscariot. He closely followed Maxwell’s ideals and aimed to keep his people from harm.

“Aye, but I don’t want to do it,” he whispered earnestly, setting down the bottle.

He could kill her tonight and be done with it. There would be guilt for his actions. There would be tears and rotted lust, sickly affection for days lost and regret.

“But why would you do such a thing, Father?” She would ask, just as she had asked the night he should have done her in.

At his mercy and at the tip of one furious bayonet, she had stared him in the eyes with curious orbs. One stab and she would have been dead, but curse his desire to get the last word against his foes. He had learned since then; now, he finished the job quickly and without much talk. Alucard was always an exception, though there was no threat of Anderson ever going easy on that bastard. That hellhound wasn’t like her… he didn’t love Alucard... or did he?

He had wavered just enough for her to smack the weapon out of his grip and remove herself from under him. With a snicker, she had stood before him as he fumed about his loss. At the time, he had wondered what was wrong with him; never before had he allowed an opponent to flee in such a manner. Such a simple flick of her hand had knocked away his precious bayonet. It wouldn’t have happened if he had been thinking straight.

It was her outfit, he had reasoned. It was the definition of whore. Her breasts had been almost completely splayed out, the fabric of her tight dress shirt only barely covering her nipples. Her skirt, much like that wretched Seras Victoria’s, stopped just beneath her panties, leaving part of her backside of display. He had even seen her panties - pink.

Her hair had been unkempt and her skin a sickly pale. Her face was in a constant state of smugness, and she didn’t seem to care about right or wrong. The woman shouldn’t have enticed him so. She shouldn’t have, but she had.

“Foul, unholy slut,” he had spat, trying to gather his bearings and remove his old mind from the gutter. “You won’t get the upper hand this time!”

And he had charged. And she had stood in place until he had gotten close enough. And then, she had leapt more than eight feet in the air behind him at lightning speed, grabbing the front of his pants with a sly hand and giving him a squeeze. He had suppressed a gasp before whipping around and attempting to decapitate her, only to slice through thin air.

“My, your huge, Father Anderson,” she had giggled like a schoolgirl. “I wouldn’t mind some of your holiness inside me.”

And that’s what had happened, hadn’t it? Somehow, she had ended up full of him. Somehow, he had found himself between her smooth legs, driving into her with his large hands around her neck. Never before had he imagined that he would be compromised so simplistically. No other being had been able to do as she had done. No other person had made him feel the way she had.

“(F/n),” he hissed as one hand fisted his glass and the other coiled itself around his manhood.

Just the memories and his imagination were enough to propel him back into these carnal ways. The way she took him and the way she teased him; it was the way she drawled her words and the way she choked on his member. It went deeper than that, too. Sometimes, after finishing, they would speak civilly. He quickly found that she was far more than a mere beast like the lot of her kind. He discovered a fully realized personality beneath her flamboyant, zany exterior - one that he quite liked.

He thought about her hair and those piercing eyes. He thought about the feeling of her body clenching around him, the sensation of pleasure that shot up his spine when she arched her back atop him. He thought about how ungodly hard she made him. All of these pondering were enough to make him hiss.

He choked back another full shot of his drink, shocked that he still didn’t have whiskey dick. Based on his younger days, scotch and the like hadn’t agreed well with his sexual prowess, but perhaps things had changed. The drinking had been an attempt to curb his arousal and distraught mind, not the other way around. He should have known that nothing good could come of committing multiple sins at once.

His jerking got faster as he cleared his busy head, occupying it only with images of the woman he wanted. Before he knew it, her name was sliding off his lips like a mantra. He got closer and closer to the edge, denying himself to get that extra little bit of pleasure before it was too late. And when it was too late, he came undone.

A flurry of praises for the Lord and curses flew from his mouth in a hushed whisper as he spilled his worth over his hand and crotch. The last time he had masturbated, he had been lonely - that had been months ago. Many holy men did it; it was a way for them to dispell any unsavoury temptations. For him, however, it was a means to an end. It was a means to a conclusion that he should have come to weeks ago. It was the final straw and his salvation.

As he sat there, unclean, he knew what he had to do tonight. To end things once and for all, he would need to kill the vampire who had so easily bewitched him.

He sighed, for this had been the only way to begin with. Surely she knew it, too. This would have to be the last time he saw (f/n) alive.

Grabbing the tall bottle one more time, he poured his ninth shot - the one between his legs counted.


	21. Hurts so Good V

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW below.
> 
> Anderson x Vampire!Reader, in which he discovers that living in the now with you is enough to keep coming back.

As he drove into her for the umpteenth time that evening, he groaned like a feral. Once again, he hadn’t planned for the evening to go this way. He had expected for the vampire to be dead at his feet, writhing and begging to be spared from his bayonetts. While he had gotten the writhing bit, it hadn’t been due to his violent battle tactics.

One thing was certain now: he remembered why he despised the effects of alcohol so much. That cursed liquid courage gave him more resolve than his sober mind could enforce. It didn’t take into account emotions or repercussions after the fact, nor did it make him consider plausibility.

In reality, he could never actually kill her. In reality and despite his profession and vows to Jesus Christ, he could never truly abandon how she made him feel. It made him feel weaker than he was. It made him feel as though he was nothing more than a false prophet.

But God, did it also make him feel alive.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and thrusted himself in to the hilt. She screamed in bliss through gritted teeth. It brought him glee to know that he could cause her that fine mix of pain and pleasure, that she could feel his utter despise for her species in each and every inch that relentlessly stretched her out. Could she feel his affections for her as well, he wondered? She was certainly intuitive enough to know that he kept returning to her company for a reason. It was highly likely that she knew by now that she wasn’t like the rest of his prey.

Did she care for him in the same manner? This question kept him up some nights more than others. He didn’t even know if vampires were capable of expressing love. If that was the case, then was there even a point to this?

He shook his head as he forced her face into the mattress with enough force to make her gasp. Of course there was a point to these encounters. He got to relieve himself inside of something that wasn’t his hand. He got to cheat the rules with this undead thing that he didn’t know if he cared about as more than just a fuck toy. He got to feel good for once, in a manner separate from physical aggression against his most challenging opponents.

He didn’t know if he actually loved her; perhaps he would never know. Perhaps it didn’t even matter. Being with her in the moment might just be enough to satiate him. Yet again, he would worry about this evolving feelings when they obstructed him enough to take to the bottle.

“Why did you stop?” She asked suddenly, and he noticed that he had gone still.

He must have been too preoccupied with his thoughts. As she gazed back at him, doe-like eyes that he could swear retained their mortal innocence meeting his, he frowned to save face. He couldn’t tell her what he had been thinking; he couldn’t even give her an inkling of it.

Instead, he pulled out of her and flipped her onto her back. Using a big hand to grip her face with enough strength to break her jaw, he pounded into her again. Just like that, those gorgeous eyes rolled to the back of her head and her mouth went agape, revealing sharp fangs and a long, pointed tongue.

“Cock warmers don’t speak,” he snarled with more aggression than usual.

She grinned as he was steadfast with his thrusting. “Of course, daddy Anderson,” she teased.

“If I see that smirk again, I’ll carve it into your face permanently, undead whore,” he spat, and he knew that she recognized how off he was this evening.

He knew because of the look on her face and a single raised eyebrow. It did nothing to quell his temper. If anything, it made him want to hurt her more. It made him want to over-exaggerate just how much he hated her.

He wasn’t very good that this, but he would get better. He would have to if this continued, if he truly couldn’t kill her and he absolutely couldn’t love her. He’d be damned if he let her get the upper hand on him like she had many times in the past.

He needed some form of control, even if it was control over himself.

“You’re acting strange tonight,” she moaned between pants. “But you feel too good to-”

Anderson couldn’t stop himself from slapping her across her pretty little face. She brought a hand up to feel the reddening spot, shivering from the arousal it brought her. A masochist at heart, like most of her kind, he knew all too well what got her to shut up.

He didn’t need to hear her talk - he just needed her to take him. When he was done, he might give her a kiss on the forehead for being such a good girl for him, humiliating her enough before taking his leave for the evening.

Maybe.

If he felt the mood was right.

If he felt that she deserved it.

He moved her legs so that they were pressed against her chest, giving him deeper entry. She groaned at the new angle, face slightly pained from the way his head caressed her cervix. Now, this was a sight that would keep him awake with his hand for the next few days.

He adored toying with his little vampire. As much as he hated to admit it and would never - ever - admit to his employers, he enjoyed the time he spent with her. There was nothing sweeter than when she was at his mercy. Feelings be damned, he could at least enjoy life’s forbidden carnal joys.

Yes, he tonight that was more than enough for now.


	22. Patience I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1 / 3
> 
> Alucard x Reader, in which you forget all about him and he finally finds you.

“What do you mean you don’t remember me, little one?” He questioned, anger evident in his tone.

At first, he had thought that you were pulling a cruel practical joke on him. He had thought that this was your way of breaking up with him, that you had grown dreadfully bored of him and wishes that you no longer remembered him. It had hurt. As much as he hated to admit it, you had shattered what was left of his heart. If you really were out of his grasp, he didn’t know what he would do.

Love, to him, was a game of loss and deceit. It was a mere way to pass the time. If he lost you, love would cease to exist in all its forms.

You quivered and backed away from the man before you. You had been minding your own business, taking a casual evening stroll, when he had approached you. You hadn’t heard his footsteps until he had appeared, blocking your path. It had been an eerie greeting.

You didn’t recognize him at all, though it was clear he knew of you. He wore sunglasses in the moonlight, along with a bright red ensemble. He stuck out like a sore thumb in this town, where everyone dressed like the peasants they were. You resided in a ghetto. Not by choice, of course. You had merely woken up there one morning, with no memory of how you had gotten into bed. Two Catholic men - _priests_ , they had claimed - had greeted you upon awakening in your bachelor apartment. They had been seated at your table, sharing conversation over cups of tea and coffee. They had gazed at you oddly when you had asked them who they were.

“You don’t remember us?” One man had said, puzzled.

“You let us sleep on the couch last night,” the other had replied, trying to jog your memory. “We’re nomadic priests from the church of Iscariot.”

From there, they had told you what they knew of your past, suggesting that perhaps you had hit your head a little _too_ hard when you had fallen in the street the night before. From what you were told, you had lived in the town your entire life. Your parents had perished when you were young and you didn’t have any siblings. The apartment you lived in had been your home since you had reached adulthood. For work, you were a maid for a nobleman, who had later corroborated the story.

It had been difficult to believe, at first. It had only been when he priests had called a doctor that you were informed of a moderate concussion. The doctor had told you that falling had caused you to lose some of your memories. He did, however, reassure you that they would return in time. With the help of the priests, this had started to take place.

But now, it was happening again. Now, someone else was asking if you remembered them. You wished that the men hadn’t left. They might have been able to help you recall how you knew this person clad in crimson.

“I’m sorry,” you elected to say. “I hit my head a few months ago and now I seem to be missing a few memories.”

The man’s face shrank. “A few months ago?”

You nodded hesitantly, unsure of his intentions. Why hadn’t he come to see you sooner if you were so special to him? It had taken him a while to visit. You doubted that he had been much of a prominent figure in your life before.

“That’s right. Can I ask how we met?”

“How we _met_!” He scoffed at the inquiry. “You were to be my bride.”

Your eyes widened and you raised a hand to cover your mouth. Surely he was lying. Surely you wouldn’t have forgotten the man that would be your husband. There was something visibly wrong with this man, particularly if he thought he could pull one over on you. You had already heard some of your neighbours speaking about your accident; it was no secret. This _beast_ must have thought he could take advantage of your condition.

You gritted your teeth and shook your head vigorously, backing away from your presumed assailant. There was no one to help you in the street. You weren’t even close enough to town for them to hear your screams until it was too late. There was only the bright light emitting from your lantern. You didn’t want to think about the result if you had come outside relying solely on your poor night vision, as you often did.

“I-I need to get back,” you muttered, not sure of what to say. You didn’t want to anger him more than he already was.

Before he could refute, you turned on your heel and jogged back to your apartment. You blew out your lantern just in case he tried to follow, already knowing your way in the dark. You glanced back a few times, watching his silhouette in the blackness get smaller and smaller. He didn’t appear to be in pursuit.

When you got to your front door, you took your keys out as silently as possible, still looking over your shoulder. Inserting the key into the lock, you noticed you were crying. You tried to calm your heartbeat and breathing, thinking it was a sign of anxiety. You had felt a lot more panic since your accident, as if you were constantly anticipating something.

You threw the door open and closed it slowly and silently, as if to not alert the man. You had no reason to believe he had followed you, but you knew it was a good idea to be safe. You were a single young woman, after all; anyone could pluck you away into the night.

Pressing your back against the door, you sighed before treading into the kitchenette to grab a glass of water. You didn’t turn on any lights. You didn’t dare. Patting around for the cupboard door handle, you told yourself you were safe. Removing a glass from the shelf and filling it with tap water, you told yourself that you had done the right thing. Taking a sip, you finally concluded that everything would be okay. With that, your body began to unwind. Tomorrow, you would go to the police about the man, just to alert them of the incident. If you needed aid, you wanted them to be aware of it.

You walked out of the kitchenette and gazed out the small window in the combined living and sleeping area. Through your thin blue drapes, you could see the moon. It was big and beautiful tonight. You had always enjoyed its presence. Perhaps you would watch it until you finally lulled off to sleep tonight.

Setting your glass down on the side table after nudging around for it, you prepared to sit on your rocking chair. Long arms snaked around your waist before you could plop down, causing you to gasp as you were pulled onto a wide lap. You opened your mouth to scream bloody murder, only to be quieted by a large, cold hand against your frantic mouth. You tried to bite it but to no avail. With the iron-like grip around your waist and the hand on your lips, you couldn’t escape.

“Now, now.” You instantly recognized the voice as the same one that belonged to the man on the path. “Don’t be so dramatic, sweetheart.”

The was a hard edge to his tone mixed with deep amusement. Part of him found this fun. You didn’t know who he was but you could tell he was a sadistic, dangerous person. His lips brushed against your earlobe as he leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“I never thought I would have to restrain my lover in this way,” he mumbled. “Calm down or I’ll have to knock you out.”

You stopped writhing. You couldn’t allow him to knock you unconscious by any means necessary. There was no telling what he would do to you in such a vulnerable state. If you could help it, you wouldn’t put yourself in that situation. Instead, you bit your tongue and tried to remain still.

“Ah, good girl,” he purred. “I don’t mean you any harm.”

He took his hand from your mouth, letting you speak. You growled, tearing yourself away from him and backing across the room. He watched you do as much, though you could tell he was prepared to catch you if you made to flee again

“How did you get in here?” You asked with narrowed eyes. “I didn’t see you behind me.”

He rose from the chair and chuckled humorlessly. “So, you really don’t remember me.”

“Please,” you urged. “This is cruel.”

“Cruel!” He shouted, eyes glowing red beneath his sunglasses. “ _This_ is cruel.” He gestured to your existence. “Leaving me was cruel.” He took a step forward. “I’m here to bring you back with me.”

You shook your head slowly. “I don’t understand.”

He was in front of you quickly, pressing you against the wall and successfully boxing you in with his lengthy arms. When he leaned down, you could feel his warm breath against your face. He smelled faintly of red wine. If you hadn’t been scared our of your mind, you might have inhaled deeper.

“You were kidnapped a year ago by an organization,” he explained. “We all thought they had killed you, after we raided various of their hideouts and couldn’t find a trace of you.”

None of this sounded familiar to you. Still, you wanted him to continue. Maybe you could find a piece of your past entangled within his words, even if they didn’t make sense.

“Who’s _we_?” You inquired. “I don’t remember being kidnapped.”

“Hellsing. My master, Integra. My fledgling, Seras. The mercenaries. _That_ is who _we_ are. As for your kidnappers, they are cowardly mortals known as Iscariot.”

You groaned at the headache you felt coming on. The names weren’t familiar to you, either. None of them rang a bell except for Iscariot. Those two men had claimed to be members of that organization. They hadn’t been evil, though; they had helped you. This man, whoever he was, had it all wrong.

“What’s your name?” You whispered, and he looked as though the question had punched him in the gut.

Nonetheless, he answered.

“Alucard.”

You paused and thought about the name. It was Dracula spelled backwards. Was he trying to pull another one over on you? There was no way that a mother would name her child such an extravagant name with negative connotations. Vampires were very real threats in Europe.

“Please, be honest with me,” you pleaded. “I truly can’t remember you.”

The words stabbed him like a dull stake to the chest. The more he spoke with you, the more apparent it became that this wasn’t a game. You really couldn’t recall your past and it was more than likely the fault of Iscariot. No doubt they had taken you for months and hid you away, finally wiping your memory and tossing you into a small town in the middle of nowhere. Why had they done it, he wondered. Wouldn’t it have been enough to kill you?

But he knew why. He knew it had been to hurt him. Death was fleeting, but how difficult was it to live alongside someone who you could never have? How difficult was it to exist when your reason for living no longer remembered you?

“I apologize,” he stated softly. “I thought you would have recalled my alias. My name is Vlad.”

It was a name that originated from Eastern Europe, you knew. It wasn’t common around these parts.

“Vlad,” you whispered, testing it out on your tongue. “Your name is Vlad.”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Do you remember your name?”

“(F/n),” you reaffirmed. “That’s right, isn’t it?”

He almost smiled but kept his expression stoic. “Yes. Who told you of your past?”

“Priests from the very organization you mentioned, Iscariot.”

You had to admit, it was peculiar that the man had mentioned them. Had he known that they had assisted you in regaining a conceptual understanding of who you were? Perhaps… or maybe he was telling the truth to at least some degree. He certainly knew you, whether you had been engaged to him or not. He also didn’t seem to want to hurt you. Nevertheless, you weren’t sure you could trust him. You needed something more - you needed something to _click_ for you.

You didn’t know why, but that prompted you to tell him everything you knew about your former life. He wasn’t shocked to hear that you had never heard of him or the Hellsing organization. The way you were acting was pitiful to watch. It was as if you didn’t know that you had been trained as a sniper, that you didn’t know you had the skills capable to give many warriors a run for their money. You believed yourself to be this docile maid, but you were so much more.

“You woke to find them at your kitchen table,” he drawled. “Did you not question their intentions when you woke up naked?”

Your mouth went agape. You had left that detail out of your story, thinking it to be less than important. If the men were priests, you were sure that they hadn’t done anything unsavoury to you. How had he known about your physical state?

“I read your mind,” he answered with a smirk, reading yet another of your thoughts. “I _am_ a creature of the night, my dear.”

Worry plagued your mind at his statement. He didn’t mean a vampire, did he? That would explain his entry to your apartment. What it didn’t explain was his affiliation with you. Could drugging and experimentation - whatever he thought had been done to you - really have made you forget your partnership with a vampire?

“You’re a…” You trailed off, not wanting to say it as you turned your head to the side.

He easily snatched your chin and circled you back around. His red eyes glowed brighter and his grin revealed protruding fangs. Your breath shaky and your lips trembling, you couldn’t bring yourself to scream. The noise was caught in your throat.

“My alias,” he reminded you.

“Alucard,” you whimpered, voice barely above a whisper. “Dracula.”

“The very same,” the vampire declared. “You were to be my bride.”

“No,” you said, unable to believe your ears. “I can’t.”

He leaned closer. “What will it take?”

“I don’t remember you.”

“What will it take to make you mine again?”

“Please!”

Removing his glasses, he entranced you with his intent, bloody orbs. He waited until you fell limp in his embrace, dazed from hypnosis. He embraced you gingerly in his strong grip. As he pressed his lips against your neck, he seriously debated turning you where you stood. If he did this, he would never again have to worry about your absence. He would never again have to worry about losing you. You would be his forever, just as he willed.

As his fangs prodded at the skin on your neck, you tensed. He was convincing himself that this was what he had to do. He was reverting to his old mannerisms of taking what he desired and worrying about the fallout later. There was nothing you could do in this state but accept him. You couldn’t fight. You would unknowingly grant him the permission he needed to be the selfish monster they had always labelled him as.

“The lengths I went through to find you,” he uttered gruffly. “Only to embrace a shell of the woman I once knew.”

He inhaled your natural scent, as intoxicating as ever. It drove him up the wall with desire. How many times had you climbed atop his lap, barely clad in anything at all, allowing him to touch all of your parts? Freshly showered, how many times had you allowed him to nestle behind you, letting him inhale your hair before driving you wild with pleasure? He moaned lowly at the memories - ones that you had long forgotten.

He pulled away from your neck immediately, knowing he would regret the emotions that would come with the forced transformation. He wasn’t aware of what drugs or techniques were used to make you like this. He didn’t want to chance harming you or himself in case this was all some sort of grand trap.

Carefully, he picked you up into his arms and carried you to the mattress. He would let you rest for the night while he contemplated his next steps. When you awakened, he would introduce himself again and try to rebuild what he had prior to your disappearance.

It was the right thing to do, but to a vampire who barely hovered the line between right and wrong, it was an agonizing decision. Perhaps patience would be kinder to him this century.


	23. Patience II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 2 / 3
> 
> Alucard x Reader, in which you try your best to remember him but it isn't quite enough.

You didn’t wake up until the next evening. Alucard hadn’t been worried, of course; he knew how fragile your physical and mental being had gotten since your disappearance. You hadn’t kept up with your training, and why would you have? You didn’t even know what you had done for a living in the past.

During the day, he had paced back and forth in your small apartment, thinking about how he had planned to make Iscariot pay for their sheer treachery. There was no reason for them to have done this besides to harm him and gather what information they could from you. No doubt you had kept your mouth shut. Amnesiac or not, you were still a loyal person; this would never change.

He had already written to his master about the ordeal. She said that she would arrive within the next few days to discuss important details of your past profession. He hoped, for once, that she would arrive sooner rather than later. The quicker you were exposed to the truth, the better. He couldn’t stand how you stared at him as if he was a mere stranger. It brought him back to when you had first encountered him - the distrust in your eyes and the nervousness that coursed through your body had been difficult to swallow.

At dusk, just before your awakening, he had fed. It had been a while since his last meal and he wasn’t quite used to feeding on humans anymore. The man had been on his deathbed, having lived a fine life. There would be no grand loss. There would be no weariness behind his demise. No one would even bat an eye. With no family or friends, he had chosen his target well. This would be something he kept from you, of course; he didn’t want you to be even more fearful of him.

When you finally woke up, at around seven thirty in the evening, the sun was already setting. You had missed the whole day and you didn’t even realize it. As you rose from the mattress, stretching and yawning loudly, you didn’t notice him for a few moments as you sat there. So many thoughts were racing through your head. You had just experienced a terrible dream about being chased by a vampire and losing your mind. It had felt real, up until the point where you had been bitten by the beast.

Twisting your neck to gaze out the window, you were shocked to see the sun setting over the hills bordering your town. It wasn’t like you to sleep in. Your body was your alarm clock and it was a strict mistress; you could barely rest past nine in the morning these days.

“It may be a side effect of your memory loss,” a deep voice replied to your private thought.

You yelped and nearly leapt clear off the bed. Whipping around to face the stranger, you quickly came to realize that you had not been dreaming. The man you had feared in your nightmare - _the_ _vampire_ \- was presently sitting at your dining table.

He had slung his red coat over his chair. His red hat and yellow sunglasses had also been discarded. His messy black hair gave his face a youthful appearance. He was smirking at you.

All at once, you realized that this man had sunk his fangs into your neck in your nightmare. He had bitten you and turned you into his bride. You clutched your neck and felt around for the markings frantically.

“Y-you bit me…!” You gasped. “Didn’t you…?”

He grimaced. Secretly, he had hoped that you wouldn’t remember that. It had been an error on his part - a lapse in his judgment. Even still, you weren’t entirely sure of yourself right now. You didn’t know if the event had been a dream. By all rights, he could lie to you and manipulate you, just as the Iscariot thugs had. He may have done it in the past, as a particularly jaded creature, but things had since changed.

Grinning, he rose from his seat and sauntered over to you, reaching your bedside in seconds. He tried to contain his excitement from being close to you, so as not to frighten you with his cloaked intentions. He wanted to convince you again that he was not the dreadful vampire you thought he was. Integra would help him with this when she arrived, as well; perhaps it would help to also hear it from a human.

“I didn’t bite you, my dear,” he said. “You’re still mortal. Though, if you feel a change of heart coming on-”

“No!” You breathed, backing up against the wall. “I do _not_ feel a change of heart coming on! Why are you even in here!?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Don’t you want the truth?”

You scrambled to remember the complete events of the night before; it was clear that you were recalling some of the things that had occurred in your dream incorrectly. You eyed the handsome man before you critically. There was a reason he was here with you. But was it because he was a vampire…? There were too many questions that needed to be annunciated.

“I know there’s a reason you’re here,” you tried again, ignoring his inquiry. “But I can’t remember it.”

Alucard hummed. “Do you know who I am?”

“Vlad… though, you said you were called Alucard.”

“Do you know _what_ I am?”

“A… no.”

“I’m a vampire.”

You clamped your eyes shut and bit down on your hand. It was just as you had suspected. It had felt silly to you at the time, a vampire being in your home, but you should have listened to your heart. You knew the legends of these beings well. The men from Iscariot had told you that vampires had been sighed in your area; why hadn’t you listened to them? Why hadn’t you stayed home last night?

“Staying home would have made little difference, little one,” Alucard stated. “I tracked you to this place.”

You opened your eyes. “You tracked me?”

He nodded with a simper, proud of himself. “Word of mouth and assistance from those who owed Hellsing a debt.”

If what he said was true, you must have been a valuable asset to this Hellsing organization. It was either that, or this man was lying through his teeth just to get a sip of your blood. Why would he go through such lengths, though, when the town was full of many other young women he could feed from? There had to be some truth to his words; you just had to decipher it.

“So, you found me based on word of mouth,” you confirmed. “Did you plan our meeting last night?”

He chuckled. “I won’t take credit for the perfection of our first encounter after a year of longing.”

You wished you could have felt the emotion behind his words the same way he did. You wished you could just flip a switch in your brain and recall what had happened to lead to this point. It obviously pained him that you no longer knew who he was or what you had previously done. You didn’t know if you ever would regain your memories, provided the priests of Iscariot truly had lied to you.

“Say that this whole idea of me being kidnapped did happen. What did I do to become a target?”

He knew that this question would eventually come. It would have helped if he had a reason for you. It would have made things clearer if he had, perhaps, had a decent idea why they had come for you above anyone else. He didn’t even know exactly what they had done to you. Was there a tracking system within your person somewhere? Would you ever remember your past? Did you have any permanent brain damage or otherwise? These things would be determined if you agreed to leave with him. Some of the technicians at Hellsing could run tests. The problem was getting you to come. As headstrong as ever, you would need a lot of convincing yet. Thus, instead of facts, he decided to go the route of logic.

“I believe it was to weaken me,” he speculated. “You empowered me in many ways. Ripping you away from me _did_ breech my defenses.”

You nodded in understanding. “Do I have some kind of power that… empowers _you_?”

You had no idea. You had no idea that he had craved you for months, that he had yearned just to feel your energy beside him for weeks on end. As you sat there on your mattress, eyes wild and evidently flustered, you couldn’t comprehend how taking you away had shattered him.

Nevertheless, he scoffed. “By some meaning, yes.”

“I see.”

“You might have been taken also because those idiots thought that it would be best for you,” he continued explaining, sighed gruffly at the mere thought of it. “A mortal becoming unnaturally close to a supernatural being scared them.”

You could see why. What would a vampire and a human create if it were possible for them to successfully breed, and how would that child navigate a hateful, unaccepting world? In a way, you knew it was best to limit crossing species. On the other hand though, who a person fell in love with wasn’t up for debate with the general public.

“The men who spoke with me when I came to in this apartment were kind enough,” you muttered thoughtfully, not wanting to think that they had ill intentions.

“Would you have listened to them otherwise?”

You nearly laughed. That was a good point. You supposed that they would have had put on an act of they wanted to convince you of their lies.

Alucard smiled for but a split second upon watching how relaxed your body had become. It was as though your physical being remembered that it had always been safe by his side. It was a novel sight but one that he strongly welcomed.

“I guess my next question is, how do I know who’s telling the truth?” You asked, moving to get off of the bed.

The vampire made room for you to do so, eyeing your clothed form lustfully as you gazed out the window. You looked absolutely delicious. He wanted nothing more than to partake in your flesh - in all ways possible. Nonetheless, there was still more to be done before he could even hope to embrace you.

“Integra Hellsing, is on her way,” he informed. “If you consent, we’ll take you back to the estate with us.”

“And you’ll run some tests,” you said vacantly. “But how do I trust you enough to let you do that?”

This entire experience was dreadful for you both. He wanted to take you by the shoulders and shake you until you saw what he knew, until you recalled who you were again. If only it were that simple. At the back of his mind, a dark part of him claimed that the only way to achieve what he truly wanted was to _take it_. He shook this dialogue away, though he couldn’t help its re-emergance here and there.

“Spend the evening with me,” he prompted. “As you used to do.”

You looked at him with glassy eyes. “As I used to do?”

He nodded. “Every night.”

“That might explain why I’m such a night owl,” you chuckled humorlessly. “Maybe I was used to staying up all night.”

He wanted to tell you of all the things you did with him during the night, but restrained himself just enough. “You were.”

Why did it feel as though he was already mourning your loss despite you being right in front of him? The words on the tip of his tongue burned as he held them back. Again, the voice somewhere in the recesses of his aged mind coaxed him to bite you and end this game. Not only would it bind you to him completely, it would also give him a better idea of your state. Just one nibble would be all it took…

But he couldn’t. Not after last night. Not after the look you had given him and how close he had gotten to losing himself.

He didn’t want to take you like this, under these circumstances. He had always imagined you coming to him of your own volition, wanting him to turn you so that you could live eternally by his side. It would have been nice to have a willing bride after so many years.

“Did you hear me?” You questioned shortly, snagging him from his thoughts.

“No.”

“I said, Integra is the leader of Hellsing, right?”

“Yes,” he hummed with disinterest.

“Why do you work with her?”

You had also asked him this upon your first time working with him. You had always found the woman to be impressive albeit difficult to get along with. Until he had explained to you his predicament, you had believed him to be blindly loyal to the woman. That was a laugh. He held a great deal of respect for her, nevertheless; she was strong and got the job done. She let him have his small freedoms and allowed him what he needed. She could have been far crueller to him.

Steadily, he told you once more why he was a member of the notorious organization. You listened with pained eyes as he told you of how he had been tricked by Helsing and his accomplices. Of course, he _did_ embellish some of the details, such as how he had turned the unwilling Mina Harker for his own benefit. He did this under the false, overused guise that you would only fear him if he told you the truth.

“I see,” you whispered. “You’re bound to that family.”

He didn’t like to look at it that way.

“Yes.”

“So, this Integra woman would be my boss, as well.”

“That’s right, little one.”

You sighed heavily. “This will be quite an impression.”

“You always called her rough around the edge,” he mused. “Will you regard her the same as before, I wonder?”

You snorted. “I lost my memories, not my personality.”

And he laughed at that. This was a fact. You were still you, recollection or not. That’s what made this so agonizing.

“I’ve missed you,” he said softly, reaching a hand up to cup your face.

Surprisingly, you didn’t flinch away. Once more, it was as though your body recognized him in some manner. You allowed him to remain there for a few seconds before shifting away and clearing your throat uncomfortably. You shifted around him and headed toward the kettle, keeping an eye on him in your peripherals as you prepared tea.

There was no doubt anymore than you knew this man. Even if you had only known him as a friend, you had known him. The way his eyes softened when they stared at you, the way his body wanted so badly to react to your own - there was no mistaking it. You wanted to hear what more he had to say. Then, when Integra arrived, you would finally be able to come to a decision. You wanted the correct answers, but only you could determine what those were.

You huffed, boiling the water and ripping a teabag out of the cupboard. You didn’t remember the last time you had been this stressed; perhaps it had been when you were a member of this Hellsing organization.

“Do you want one?” You asked the vampire absently. “I don’t know if you drink anything but…”

“Blood?” He smirked. “I’ve already had a drink today.”

Your head rolled to look at him. “You’ve already killed today, you mean?”

He almost froze at your question. He still didn’t want to tell you about the man he had fed from.

“I drink from medical blood bags,” he replied coolly.

“How the mighty have fallen,” you grumbled teasingly. “Don’t you miss wild blood?”

“You make it sound as though I’m nothing more than an animal, my dear,” he growled.

 _Show her how much of a beast you really are_ , the darkness within him urged. _She already thinks you’re an animal. Bite her now._

You poured the hot water into your cup and set it aside. “It’s the same as living off the land, isn’t it? When you try processed meat and you’re used to preparing the meat on your own, there has to be a difference.”

 _That’s not what she meant_ , the voice tried to convince him. _She’s backpedaling to save herself from your wrath._

But he knew that wasn’t true. He knew that you hadn’t meant any harm; you were merely ignorant. If his master didn’t appear soon, he didn’t know what he would do. As much as he hated to admit it, you were a weakness of his. He wanted so badly to have you that he would do many terrible things to obtain you. For your safety, though, he had contained himself in the past. Now, after a year without you, the shadow over his heart had returned at an even greater force than before.

What if you didn’t want to come with them willingly? Integra would no doubt order him to forcefully take you. How he would do so, he didn’t yet know. Perhaps he wouldn’t even have to think about it. Maybe you would just see things rationally and volunteer yourself.

He hoped so - for your sake and his.


	24. "Well, I wasn't planning on asking you..." -Alucard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alucard x Nun!Reader, wherein he really just likes taunting you.
> 
> Prompt: "Well, I wasn't planning on asking you, but it's occurred to me that life is short. Will you marry me?"

"What are you doing here, Dracula?" She asked him with such authority in her voice, that he wanted to cackle aloud.

She always asked him this when he treaded into her domain, as if she thought he didn't enjoy the atmosphere of a beautiful church. Just because he didn't pray to her false God, didn't mean that he despised the gothic scenery. She was always a plus, too, in her cute little robes. Sometimes, a tuft of (h/c) hair would peak out from beneath her headpiece. He had never seen her out of her nun garb. Thus, he would take little victories such as that and keep them forever in his memory. That way, she would live longer - as long as she deserved to.

He approached her as she sat silently in the first pew to the right. Taking up residence next to her, he didn't say anything for a while. They sat next to each other for another five minutes before he uttered a response. Again, this was rather characteristic of their meetings. Since he had stumbled across her nearly a decade ago, after he had been tasked with purging ghouls from her church's cellar, they had partaken in many moments of silence alongside one another. He pondered often if she had liked them as much as he did. She must have, if she continued to tolerate them. The nun wasn't one to hide her emotions, even though she was a woman of God.

He peered over at her out of the corner of his eye, taking in her form as he always did. He would never make a move - not after she had almost cut off his hand with a knife she kept hidden beneath her robes when he had gone to grip her chin. In all fairness, he had deserved that; she had been dealing with his flirtations and unwanted advances for at least an hour beforehand. It had certainly left an excellent first impression on him. Perhaps that was why he kept returning, despite her unwillingness to give him anything more than sweet banter. Perhaps her just being her made his efforts worth it.

Ah, if only he could convince her to give up on her profession and mortal life, to take up residence by his side and as a part of his harem. She and Seras would get along. She would never have to worry about aging or getting sick. She would want for nothing and she would have all of his attention. Any other woman would have leapt at the opportunity to be his, to have him taste their blood. Not her, though; never her.

He cleared his throat as he cracked a small smirk, gazing down at her in full. She met his stare with bright (e/c) orbs. She had noticed him watching the entire time.

"Are you happy to see me, nun?" He asked wittily. "I've been gone a while."

"Have you?" She hummed. "I hadn't noticed."

"Lies," he snickered. "You love to play hard to get, my dear."

"Oh, please," she mumbled, rolling her eyes. "I'm a holy woman."

"One who accepts the company of a vampire." He grinned like the predator he was.

The woman rose from her seat and shook her head condescendingly. Pacing to the front of the room, she sighed. "Is there a reason you're here? I'm a little busy this evening."

He got up, as well. Placing a hand over where his heart would have been, he drawled, "I'm wounded."

She groaned, realizing that he wasn't going to leave until she forced him out the door. She could admit, she had a soft spot for the count, but he could be unbearably suffocating during his visits. It was like he didn't understand that she had obligations beyond their companionship.

"I need to prepare for the potluck tomorrow at daybreak," she insisted. "You're a pest."

"Ah," he mused. "A _pest_ is better than a _beast_ , as you used to call me."

"You're still a beast, too, Dracula," she responded quickly. "Now, tell me why you came here tonight."

He always had a reason, whether it was real or fake. He always had a purpose to visiting her. Not once had he ever claimed it was for pleasure. She was more than comfortable with that, given the hot and cold dynamic of their makeshift friendship.

He walked to her and she craned her neck up to gaze at his pale face. He liked how much he towered over here. It was a treat to see how small she was compared to him, and how easily to could crush her if he so desired. He would never do such a thing, of course; at least, not the way things stood between the two of them, now. She had never done or said a wrong thing to him - not in his eyes. He, on the other hand, had made a plethora of verbal errors. He didn't know how she always found it in her heart to forgive him.

"Well, **I wasn't planning on asking you, but it's occurred to me that life** , as you mortals know it, **is short,** " he declared. " **Will you marry me?** "

The nun scoffed and smacked his long arm, as she always did when she knew he was teasing. And he _was_ teasing. Marriage between one of his kind and a religious figure wouldn't work. Hell, marriage in general seemed like a little too much commitment for a vampire like him. Moreover, could nuns even wed? No, he didn't think so.

And where would she get off, falling for a monster like him, anyways? She could never love him. She could never consent to being turned by him. Her faith was too strong to be corrupted or tempted. It was such a shame. She would be so pretty as his.

"You're ridiculous," the woman murmured opening the Bible atop the podium and sifting through the pages. "I have to recite a prayer, now, to cleanse myself of your perverted foolishness."

He threw his head back and laughed. It wasn't often she made jokes like that. When she did, however, she always caught him off guard. She was a treat, indeed... but it was true, he was beginning to overstay his welcome.

"Banish me, then," he demanded.

Her gaze fluttered up to his face. There was a small smile on her lips as she cleared her throat readily.

"You're banished," she said, wiggling her fingers at him. "Never return, _beast_."

And he disappeared, then.

Not for good, as she had joked, but for another little while. When he was good and ready, he would return for more. When he was prepared to feel a rather peculiar coldness in his chest again, at her scathing words and chilly demeanor, he would visit again. He'd had his fill, for now.


	25. Anderson: Lent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anderson x Reader, wherein you break the rules of Lent and Anderson knows exactly how to punish you.

It was only a week and a half when he noticed that the bag of chocolate in the kitchen cupboard had gotten a little lighter. His checking of the sack hadn't been propelled by ill intentions, of course; he would never dare break his vow to abstain. No - he had merely opened the cabinet to grab the peppermint tea behind the bag of goods, only to find that it was a little more empty than the day prior. Sure enough, after peering in, there were at least three chocolate balls missing. Instantly, he knew what had occurred behind his back.

Nevertheless, he had grabbed his teabag and closed the cupboard. At dinner that night, he had sat across from his darling little wife, who had given up chocolate for Lent, and smiled as he indulged in a small, plain meal with her. They had shared laughs as he told her about his day. He had revelled in how gorgeous she had looked, as she did every day. He almost dreaded bursting this little bubble, but he knew he had to.

Setting down his fork, he patted his lips with a napkin and removed his glasses. He placed them next to his plate and folded his hands over each other, elbows resting on the table. You stopped eating soon after, knowing that he had something important to say when he did this. You had a vague idea as to what it was.

"(F/n)," he said, tasting your name on his tongue and savouring it like fine French wine. "Ya never told me what ya got up to this afternoon."

"Oh," you hummed. "Not much."

He rose a blonde brow. "You didn't do anything out of the ordinary?"

"No."

You shook your head, barely looking at him. You felt as though you had chocolate smeared all over your face. He knew. He knew about your sins.

"I see," he mused with a playful grin. "You didn't _eat_ anything out of the ordinary?"

You remained silent.

"C'mon, lass," he urged.

"I'm sorry, okay?" You broke. "We bought the chocolate for after Lent started and I just couldn't help myself."

Alexander sighed with disappointment. "Ya have the impulse control of a bloodsucker."

"What!?" You hollered, having never been likened to a vampire before. "No!"

Your husband rose from his seat and travelled to the kitchen cabinet. He pulled out the chocolate and tossed it onto the table. Still heavy, as you hadn't indulged as much as you had wanted to, its impact shook the dishes. You stared at the red bag with big, lustful eyes. It had been a terrible idea to think that you could give up an addiction for Lent. You should have chosen something easier, like not doing the laundry or abstaining from washing dishes.

"We were supposed to give up chocolate together," the priest muttered, clearly frustrated with your bad behaviour.

"I know," you moaned. "But you don't like chocolate as much as I do. You don't know how hard it is to have it sitting in the cupboard, alone and-"

" _Lass._ "

"Well, why didn't you give up some addiction of yours!?" You asked loudly. "It's not fair!"

"Yer throwin' a tantrum," he pointed out disdainfully. "Gather yourself, now, will ya?"

You took a deep breath in and released it slowly. He was right. You were acting hysterical over something that didn't matter much. Nonetheless, it did bother you that he had chosen to give up chocolate - something he had barely partaken in prior - for Lent. This series of day was supposed to be about personal sacrifice, to a degree. Why had to he chosen a different activity or item to decline for forty days?

"Sorry," you offered once you had gathered yourself. "Sorry about that."

"No harm done," he replied softly, picking up the sack and putting it back in the cupboard. "Small mistakes can be forgiven."

Instead of the lowest shelf, he put them on the highest one. That would absolutely deter you from consuming them in the future, were you tempted again. You watched in horror as he did this, though even you understood that it was for your own good.

"Gee, thanks," you mumbled as he started to clear the table soon after.

"Do ya want me to give up something equivalent to your chocolate?" He inquired.

You didn't need to think much about it. Yes, you did. You wanted him to experience exactly what you had; you wanted to see if he would crack under pressure. Alex was a stronger human than you, though, so you doubted you would see him falter. That wasn't what this was about, however; this was about fairness and being true to oneself. Him giving up chocolate wasn't a real Lent observation.

"Yes," you confirmed as you got up from your seat and lead your dishes to the sink.

He took them from your hands and loaded them in, grabbed the cloth and beginning to scrub. There was a devious smirk on his face that you had only seen a few times during your marriage. It meant that he was up to something.

"So be it, then," he drawled. "Fair is fair."

You wrapped your arms around his large one, nuzzling your face against his soft white dress shirt as he worked. You were grateful to have such a caring, understanding, and selfless husband. You had always admired him for his tireless efforts as a man of God.

"What are you going to give up?" You questioned.

It was probably going to be salty foods, like fish and chips. He was a total addict when it came to anything fried. You tried to keep the meals you cooked healthy, for the most part, but you would allow him his favourite at least once a week.

He slid his hand up your back and held you close by his side, stopping his washing for a moment to gaze lovingly into your eyes. You marvelled at how brilliant his eyes were beyond his glasses. You loved getting a good look at his whole face. You brought a hand up to cup his cheek gingerly.

"My only addiction is you," he explained. "I'm sure ya won't mind abstaining from intimacy for a few weeks."

Your face dropped.


	26. Anderson: Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW below.
> 
> Anderson x reader, in which he comes home from work pent-up and ready to go.

Alexander's tired blue eyes traced the outline of every house he passed in the darkness of early morning. Street lamps illuminated the path he was on - his only light. The moon had receded behind black clouds long ago. It was going to rain soon. If he didn't rush, he would be caught in it. He picked up his pace a bit. Usually he didn't mind a little water, but with the cuts lining his arms, torso, and legs, he knew that rainwater would only sting tonight.

His mission this evening had been tumultuous. He had been tasked with destroying a rogue vampire on the outskirts of town. Maxwell had told him that they believed the creature to be the result of a German experiment gone wrong. That had made it simpler to kill, as it was but a speck in this world with no meaning, but he hadn't been expecting it to be so _powerful_. Typically, the only being who could make him work up a sweat was the original vampire, himself. This experiment had been different than most others he had dealt with. It had been far more reckless, far more lethal than the rest. Still, in the end, it had been nothing he couldn't handle. 

Even in dire times, he never thought he would die. This was because he knew that he couldn't afford to. He had you to take care of and you to come home to; he couldn't bear to leave his sweet wife behind. Before you, he might not have thought twice about sacrificing himself, if he thought it necessary for the greater good of humanity.

After a while of being married, it had become necessary to tell you about his second profession. Coming home late at night, bloody and littered with cuts, as well as leaving in the wee hours of the morning abruptly, only to return the following evening, had almost destroyed the marriage. He had a sneaking suspicion that you believed he was being unfaithful, though you never outwardly claimed this. From what he could gather, an ex-partner had done the unthinkable to you, visiting a plethora of brothels and verbally abusing you when arriving home. Alexander couldn’t blame you for being weary, based on past history.

He had debated on telling you about the supernatural aspects of your work when you had first taken an interest in his courting, but he had ultimately decided against it. Your innocence had been far too great for him to soil; he hadn't wanted you to hear of the atrocities he had and would continue to face. Besides, civilians didn't need to concern themselves over supernatural disturbances. It was the duty of him and the rest of the church to minimize them and enhance the safety of mortals, even if it was beneath their awareness. You had been no exception to that.

Things had changed when you accepted his marriage proposal. He started to view you in a different light. You weren't just a weak woman with a strong heart and beautiful mind. You weren't just his doting little wife-to-be, who wanted desperately to please him and show him how important he was. You were more. You were special.

You had taken up laying on his chest and tracing his scars with your index finger, not finding them grotesque in the least. You generally did this while he laid there, stone-faced, refusing to discuss his difficult day. It never failed to make him a happy man. You had also taken to running your hands through his hair when he took you in his arms to kiss you after work. 

He was aware that this wasn't abnormal behaviour from a significant other, of course; that these mannerisms weren't unique. He loved them because of the emotions behind them. He loved them because he could feel how much _you_ , an angel of Earth, loved _him_ , a manufactured abomination by all rights. There were days where he didn't understand it. There were weeks at a time where he found himself perplexed, though counting his blessings that you had chosen him. There had been so many men vying for your attention. There had been people you had known for longer than him who had wanted to have you, and _he_ had made the cut over them.

It was jarring.

He sighed heavily as he walked up the path that lead to the apartment he shared with you. He often reminisced on his way home. There was nothing better to do than admire God's scenery and classify his busy mind, after all. Sometimes the topics he discussed within himself were hard, other times they were easy. Thinking of work was always a mixture of the two. It was a stressful position, his second job. He was grateful to have you there after a long night. Even if you didn't stir to greet him - which was the norm when he arrived in the early morning - merely laying down next to you was enough.

He supposed he was glad that you seldom woke to him. He was different when he came home from a fresh kill. He didn't act like the Alexander you knew. He was more blunt and aggressive. He would never raise a hand to you, though. He was nervous of being a little too rough one time. You had reassured him before that you didn't mind, but you didn't understand what you were volunteering for. It wouldn't be the lovemaking you had grown so used to with him; it would be fucking. He wasn't sure if you could handle it. Bit by bit, he would take things slow. Even if you were never prepared to surrender fully, he would continue to enjoy sex with you.

He unlocked the door to the building and let himself inside. Climbing the stairs to the apartment, he hated how loud he sounded in the barren stairwell. His boots clunked against the tile and his long, open trench coat clapped against the metal railings violently. Much like many other locations, he was evidently too big for this place.

When he arrived to the front door, he found himself excited to get in. Part of this was arousal, as the fight with that experiment had worked him up, though another part of this was just because home had a meaning to him these days. Swiftly, he inserted his keys into the double lock and entered. The smile that graced his lips was instantaneous. You had left the living room lamp on for him again. It was truly the little things that touched him the most.

"Oh, lass," he whispered affectionately to the emptiness.

He unlaced his boots and set them next to your smaller ones. Shrugging off his jacket, he flung it onto the coat rack and got to work on unbuttoning his white, long-sleeve dress shirt. He really wished you were still awake. He could have used your embrace about now. He also could have used a warm body rather than his hand.

As if on cue and sensitive to his hormonal rousing, you called out to him from the bedroom, voice sleepy . "Alex...?"

He perked up at your sweet, exhausted voice. Had he woken you, or had you been waiting for him?

"It's me," he replied warmly. "Just gettin' in."

"Okay," you yawned. "Wash up and come in here."

"Demandin' this mornin'," he chuckled.

"Please?" You offered, with a giggle of your own.

"Better.”

He walked into the washroom, taking off his torn dress shirt immediately and tossing it into the trash can. He would take it away before you woke up so that you didn't see the blood caked to the fabric. He had been able to regenerate over most of his wounds, but he wasn't as young as he used to be. As such, his technique was no longer perfect. Sometimes it took days for his body to heal entirely. Those were the times you fretted over him the most, because the cuts looked _bad_. This was likely going to be one of those times.

He picked up a cloth and dampened it under the faucet. Dabbing along his muscular chest, he cleaned the injuries as best he could, hissing when the warm water made contact with the worst ones. He did the same with the cuts on his arms and legs, too, stripping himself down to his boxer shorts. He rinsed the cloth and folded it nearly under the sink. Taking a look in the mirror, he removed his cracked glasses and set them aside. He ran a hand over his coarse facial hair. It was rough. The minx you were, you would probably ask him to trim it tomorrow, withholding kisses until he did exactly that.

When he was done inspecting himself, he exited the washroom and took a deep breath before entering the bedroom. You had turned on the light for him to see. Not only that, but you had undressed from your night clothes and splayed yourself up for him to drink in. His eyes widened at such a magnificent sight. He hadn't expected _this_.

"Hi," you offered.

"Well, hello, sweetheart," he purred, moving toward his side of the bed. "Isn't this a sight?"

He shifted so that he was on top of you, covering your small frame with his thicker one. He could feel that his underwear had tightened at the prospect of getting to do exactly what he wanted to you this day. He would do his best to go easy, but he couldn't promise that the event would be completely without its trials. He wouldn't dominate you - that would be for another time - but he would show you just how tempting you were in his eyes.

He leaned down to press his lips against yours, gently at first. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Your legs entwined, encircling his waist. You pushed his groin against your bare heat, causing him to shiver in anticipation. No woman had ever made him feel like this before. No woman had ever lit his soul on fire to the point where he wanted to let his entire being burn, ravishing everything in its sooty path. You made him want to let all of his walls down.

And let them down, he would.

Just for tonight.

The kiss deepened at that, his lips pressing harder and his hands starting to trail up your form. They cupped your sides, feeling every contour and shapely edge. They moved to your legs, squeezing and massaging them as he relinquished control over himself in favour of indulgence.

"I want you," he growled between kisses, fingernails digging into your hips. "Let me have you."

"Always," you moaned as his fingers found their way to your breasts. “You can always have me, Alex.”

You arched your back as he removed himself from his boxer shorts, sliding his head against your opening. Tonight wasn't about foreplay; the both of you were already prepared. Tonight was about enjoying each other in a way that you never had before. You had been waiting to do this all evening, as had he. It was as if you two were on the same wavelength. This only strengthened your pre-existing emotional connection.

"A-are you okay... to do... this?" You asked breathily, as his lips attacked your neck.

He nodded, a nonverbal confirmation that this was absolutely what he needed right now. You didn't ask again.

Alexander sucked on your neck in all the places that made you come undone while his hands roamed your chest. He ghosted over your nipples as he latched onto the place above your collarbone and granted you exceptional pleasure. You couldn't contain your gasps as your nails dug into his back. It wasn't that point where he could wait no longer.

He slid inside of your wetness with ease, groaning softly as he filled you to the hilt. Your mouth opened, but no sound emerged. He leaned down, pushing his elbows against the mattress and petting your hair as you adjusted. One of his arms snaked beneath your arching back to hold you. He shushed you as you whimpered and panted. You bit your lower lip and bucked your hips, wanting him to move. He didn't, however, not yet wanting to overstimulate you to the point of an orgasm.

"Please, Alex...!" You whined, making his manhood twitch.

He loved it when you begged. He loved that he had this sort of effect on you. How many others had experienced you like this? How many others had you asked to fuck you in the past? None like him, that was for certain. Your reactions were genuine. It made him swell with happiness... literally.

"Not yet," he muttered into your ear. "Be patient."

You groaned in response, lifting your hips in an attempt to find another angle that made your toes curl. He quickly curbed your efforts with a firm hand on your waist and a stern glance. It was only when you had obeyed him, stilling and remaining calm, that he commenced.

"That's my good girl," he hummed in that rough, Scottish accent of his.

The first thrust had been earth-shattering. Instead of the softness you were used to, your husband pounded himself into you. Your head rolled back and you closed your eyes, living for the feeling of his thick head striking your back wall. The stretching hurt a little, but you didn't dare ask him to stop. This was a new side to him that you definitely wanted to see more of. At long last, he was showing you a fraction of the strength in those big arms of his; finally, he wasn't overly concerned about harming you in bed.

" _God_ , you feel so good," you remarked dreamily.

"Watch your mouth, lass," he said in a deep tone. "God has nothin' to do with what I'm doin' to ya."

You flicked his arm playfully. You knew he was serious; he always took his Lord seriously. Nonetheless, you weren't sure that this was the time for him to be so religiously zealous.

" _Alex_ , you feel so good," you corrected yourself with a roll of your eyes.

"That’s my good girl,” he mumbled, thrusting into you harshly, willing to ignore your sass for now.

You gasped once more, though this time he didn't allow you to catch your bearings. He pounded into your womanhood with wild abandon, hands cupping his face as his hips snapped forward at an inhuman speed. You could only lay back and enjoy the ride, tightening your hold on his body between your legs. He grunted as you clenched and spasmed, having never felt you like this before - it was heavenly. His forehead pressed against yours, and you felt his fingers find your sensitive nub, rolling it between them as he got the both of you off.

"I want to see ya," he rasped.

And with that, he flipped you over so that you were atop him, still inside you and thrusting. You threw your head back and released a breathless scream as he hit something _oh so good_ and his fingers worked you over. You didn't know what had come over him, but it was making you endlessly glad that you had woken up so aroused to him coming home. You would need to entice him like this more often.

He smiled as he bounced you on him, biting his lower lip. "I can't believe yer mine."

"You're going to make me...!"

"What?" He urged with a devious smirk, sweat dripping down his forehead. "What is it, beautiful?"

You contorted your body every which way as he brought you to orgasm with everything he was doing to you. The penetration, his eyes sweeping down your form, and his skillful digits were too much for you to hold on any longer. You clenched wildly around him, both hands clutching his wrist as your fluids washed over him. His name fell from your swollen, lustful lips as you rode out your release, grinding down on him until the pulsating ceased. In the meantime, he freed his hand from your nether region in favour of gripping your hips with both so that he could help himself to your tightness. He had never felt you orgasm like that before. He wouldn't be long after you, now.

You placed your hands on his chest and allowed him to domineer you however he wished, too spent to do much else, though also a glutton for pleasure. He admired how you moved, eyes skirting around your chest. He was so lucky. He was so ungodly lucky.

When he came, he forced you down firmly, spilling his seed into your womanhood with a sharp hiss and a boatload of "I love you"s, "you take me so well"s, and "mine"s. You cried out yet again, loving the feeling of fullness that he granted you. One of the perks of marriage to a strict priest meant that contraception was shunned. For other women, this might have been a downfall. To you, it was a win. Not only could you feel your husband bare, it also increased your chance of bearing his child. This was something you both hoped for one day.

You fell on his chest, popping off of his manhood as you huffed tiredly. He wrapped his arms around you, wincing as he finally felt the sting of his sweat seeping into his open wounds. It was a minor price to pay, though. Feeling you like that and seeing you enjoy what he offered made up for any pain he would go through afterward.

"You look a mess," you slurred, trying to catch your breath.

"Rough night," he said, giving your backside a pat.

"Tell me about it?" You offered, as you usually did.

"Tomorrow," he responded. "For now, can ya turn over so I can be close to ya?"

You blushed a bit at the thought of having him so close to you. You realized that you had no reason to feel sheepish, but he was just so _handsome_. You loved how vocal he was about his desires for you. Even as a man of God, his dirty talk was always on point.

You did as he asked, rolling off him in favour of stating on your side. Normally, you would have gotten out of bed to rinse off before turning in. Tonight, sleep had other plans for you. You sighed softly as he curled up behind you and spread the bedsheets over your figures. When he slipped himself back inside you, you did your best not to quiver at the sensation.

He had never done this before.

He had never demanded that you go to sleep with him, half-flacid, between your legs. There was something comforting and romantic about it, though you couldn't deny the arousal component, as well. You adored that he couldn't get enough of you - mind, body, and soul.

"I love you," you whispered as he shut off the light.

"I love ya very much, lass," he replied, kissing the back of your head gingerly, as you slipped back into a deep rest. "Don't know where I'd be without ya."


	27. Patience III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3 / 3
> 
> Alucard x Reader, in which he plots to have you no matter what.

By the time Integra arrived, the sun was almost ready to rise again. She had been dreadfully late, even by her usual standards.

He had allowed her to enter the home, Walter and Seras close in tow, before gazing out at the emptiness of the streets. It was an eerie night. The air was chilly and moist. Something felt wrong, like a tragedy was impending. Instead of lingering on such a horrid notion, he closed the door.

You had already taken a seat at your table, across from your former boss. He elected to stand behind you, adjacent from his fledgling and the aged butler. The closer he was to you, the better. Why? Well, he reasoned that it was due to the calming nature of your presence, but he knew the dark, unacknowledged truth. It was because he would be in a better position to whisk you away the second you declined to return with them. You likely had no idea of his planned treachery, sitting there with your back toward him. Did you elect to put your faith in him so simply? You claimed that your personality had not been altered, but the (f/n) he knew would have never blindly trusted a monster... unless, your body remembered him.

Yes, it was entirely possible that your memories hadn't been completely erased, but merely set aside in the recesses of your mind. He wanted to believe that.

"So, you're sir Integra," you started, offering her on open hand. "A pleasure."

"Echoed sentiments, former associate."

The platinum blonde leaned across the table to take it, squeezing it firmly before releasing. Thus far, she hadn't shown any emotion. Her manners had been cordial, as always, though he expected that to change once she started getting frustrated. His master had little patience these days, what with pressures rising and Europe declining.

"The man behind me is Walter Dornez, a butler and a very capable opponent," she explained. "The woman is Seras Victoria, Alucard's fledgling."

You offered them each a wave. You didn't know if they looked familiar because you _did_ know them, or if it was because you were _supposedly_ meant to know them.

"Can you tell me more about my life prior to this disappearance Alucard told me about?" You inquired, skipping straight to the point.

His woman didn't like to beat around the bush. The vampire grinned. This was good. Things would speed along quite nicely, at this rate.

Integra smirked coldly. "First, I think you'd better tell us what you can remember."

You nodded, willing to give her this before you received your answer. You told her of the Iscariot priests and how all you had known - all you had _come_ to know - was the village. When you were finished, the Hellsing head placed her hand on her chin and contemplated for a long while. No one disturbed her. You remained still and calm, like he knew you would. You were still predictable when it came to these sorts of things, it seemed.

"I see, then," Integra sighed eventually. "You were kidnapped by Iscariot."

"Th-that's what I've been told," you stammered,caught off guard by how the blonde's voice had pierced the tense atmosphere.

"It makes sense, given your... relationship with Alucard."

You gulped. You truly _had_ been close to the night creature. He hadn't been lying to you. You were used to men being dogs. You were used to men lying to get their way, but he wasn't just a man, was he? No - he had been around too long for games and trickery when it came to the opposite sex.

"Why not kill me?" You asserted. "That would have been more permanent."

"If I may, ma'am," the butler interjected. "Killing you would have been too finite."

"I agree," Seras added. "This hurts more than death, doesn't it, master?"

Alucard growled lowly. He didn't fancy the idea of sharing his feelings of woe with his peers. They already knew the grief that he had endured while he had searched endlessly for you. He had never outwardly told them of your meaning to him, but he was sure that they understood. His affectionate words were for your ears only, however, so he would elect for silence.

You turned back to gaze at him, searching his face for the emotion you so desperately needed to comprehend this was real. He didn't give you any of the rawness that he had prior to his master and associates arriving. You could see why. If he was bound to the Hellsing family, displaying vulnerability in front of his holder probably wasn't easy for him. You shifted back in your seat to look forward, again.

"I guess my next question is, why should I believe you over those priests?" You questioned boldly. "If you're telling me they kidnapped and conditioned me, shouldn't I be weary of you, too?"

"We're your friends!" Seras exclaimed, as if this fact was the most obvious of them all. "We would never hurt you, (f/n)."

Integra wound her body to glare at the bubbly blonde. "She doesn't recall her friendships, Miss Victoria."

Beside her, Walter bobbed his head in agreement. "It's not a mere matter of jogging her memory."

You despised this. You had no idea who to believe. On one hand, the priests hadn't done anything to you that you could remember. They had helped you when you had first woken up. They had been in your home, prepared to guide and rehabilitate you. One of them had also taught you how to meditate during prayer one afternoon. How could they have laughed and aided you, only to have hurt you in the first place? This meant that Iscariot were utter _monsters_.

Then again, Alucard and his entourage could be the liars. You really felt as though you would have recalled being the lover of a timeless vampire. Moreover, from what Integra was telling you, it appeared that you had played a significant role in her organization. Why didn't you remember even a sliver of your time there? Surely Iscariot didn't have the technology to selectively erase memories; that was far too futuristic for this time.

But you had to admit - it _was_ peculiar that the priests had been the first people to tend to you upon awakening. They had certainly been holy men, though it was possible that they didn't serve God properly, that they had another more sinister goal in your reconstruction.

"This is a lot to process, I'm sure," Integra drawled, lighting the cigar that hung between her lips. "We're here to answer any of your questions. Otherwise, well take our leave and allow you time to contemplate our offer."

You rose a brow. "Offer?"

You didn't remember her saying anything about a proposition. It may have been implicit.

"That's right," she responded, puffing on her cigar. "An offer to return."

"Leaving her here would be risky," Alucard countered. "This could be a trap."

Seras rubbed her chin in contemplation. "That's right. This could all be a ploy to-"

"To kill her, yes," the Hellsing mogul interrupted with a gentle, dismissive wave of her hand. "I'm well aware of this possibility."

You pursed your lips. You couldn't imagine those men coming back to kill you, but stranger things had happened. You didn't know much about defending yourself. They would demolish you if they wanted to.

"Do you plan to keep me here, then?" The ancient being behind you spoke with a simper.

He could think of nothing more that he wanted than to protect you. It would earn him more time with you, _grooming_ you, getting to know you again. It would give him the opportunity to ensure you stayed his this time, that no one could take you from him. By the time he had completed his stay with you, many things in your mind will have changed. He didn't care if he had to use mind control to generate replications of the echoed memories you had lost - he would do it. It would be all for you... all for _both_ of you.

And you would be none the wiser.

Of course, he would feel bad. He would be saddened that he would need to use his influence on you. If you ever found out - which he would ensure you never did - you would be livid with him, though you wouldn't leave him. There was a reason the universe had drawn the two of you together. Perhaps it was because he had needed someone like you by his side, or perhaps the forces who governed this world had something big in store for the partnership. Regardless of the meaning, you were his. Under no circumstance would he let you leave him alone in this life.

Integra locked eyes with her servant as he thought about what it would be like to have you in his undead arms once more. She knew how much he cared for you, and she knew that you had cared for him just the same. Leaving him here with you would no doubt calm him from the state he had been in since your disappearance. The vampire's impulsivity would lower with his heart pieced back together, and this would be an asset for Hellsing.

As calloused as it sounded, Integra cared not for your plight. Had you been just another soldier, without an attachment to her ghastly trump card, she would have been content to leave you to your new life. The fact was, most of her army was expendable for the sake of humanity, as a whole. If she allowed herself the liberty to reflect on every single death under her power, she would have crippled herself with guilt long ago. So, they could call her calloused if she could keep sane for just long enough until the unseen threats around the masses had diminished. That was fine. Her uncaring demeanor would shine brightly here, too, with the knowledge that she was condemning you to the dark wiles of her irrational servant.

"I trust you have no objections," she said to the elated vampire.

He shook his head wordlessly. The hunger in his crimson eyes told her that she was making the correct decision.

"And you, (f/n)?"

You hesitated. You had to admit, having a creature like Alucard around would be a bit nerve-wracking. Did you want to chance it him putting you under his spell and attempting to bite you, again? There needed to be ground rules. You couldn't thrust yourself into the care of this organization without boundaries.

"I would be open to Vla- I mean, Alucard - staying with me," you muttered thoughtfully. "But I want to be promised my safety and mortality."

At first, the count had felt butterflies in his still chest from you nearly saying his name. Upon reaching the end of your sentence, though, he adorned a grimace. He knew why you had requested such. You were scared that he would turn you. A weak moment that he was less than proud of, he wasn't angry about your demand. He supposed it was human nature to fear what you could never hope to understand. Besides, it wasn't like you could determine what he was thinking, as he could with you. As a show of good faith, even though he didn't want to, he offered to be accompanied by another during his stay. Hopefully, this would ease your busy, perplexed mind.

He could rest assured that he would still be able to whisk you away, if it looked like you wouldn't come around.

"We can barely spare _you_ , servant," Integra groaned, putting out her cigar.

"Ah, but sir!" Seras exclaimed. "Pip has some time off, doesn't he? I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

The bespeckled woman hummed in consideration. "That's true. He and (f/n) got along rather well."

Alucard snorted. "That's because he thinks with his di-"

"Is this going to be a problem for you?"

His master stared him down as though he was Satan, himself. He could tell that she just wanted to be done with the matter.

"What does this Pip guy do in your organization?" You inquired curiously, in a feeble attempt to dispell some of the tension.

"He and his men are mercenaries, madam," Walter answered. "They only handle supernatural assassinations these days, though. You'll be quite safe with him."

You nodded. "Okay."

Integra's frigid gaze snapped back to you. "It's a deal, then?"


	28. Alucard: Thigh Riding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW below.
> 
> Alucard x Reader steaminess in Integra's office.

"Ah...!"

Her groaned lowly at her soft cries, only muffled by his large gloves hand, as she grinded her damp pussy against his firm, muscular thigh. He moved his fingers apart to hear her clearly every now and then, relishing in the sounds she made as she pleasured herself like a good little girl. His other hand rubbed the small of her back, sometimes even coiling tightly around her to pull her bare body close.

There was something insanely hot about having his pet get off on him while he sat proudly in Integra Hellsing's chair. When he told the platinum blonde woman about this, she would surely lose her mind. He wasn't sure what was more delicious - that, or the feeling of his darling's juices seeping through his black pants.

"You're so close," he whispered huskily into her ear, sighing deeply at the feeling of her breasts against his chest. "Scream my name when you cum."

He wasn't asking, he was demanding her to do this. She always obeyed him at the peak of pleasure, and boy, did he love ordering her around in the bedroom. A perfect toy just for him, she never ceased to drive him wild.

"I'm gonna...!" She hissed beneath his hand.

"Scream," he urged her, voice strained and dripping his lust. "Loud."

He pulled her back and released his hand from her parted lips. He looked down just in time to see her rub that sweet clit against the fabric of his pants, her swinging hips dragging the sensitive nub across the rough texture to bring herself to climax. She threw her head back and braced herself on his shoulders, then, his name flying from her mouth. Her pussy visibly twitched as she erupted, still riding him lewdly until the last drop of bliss was squeezed from her being. It was always a joy to hear her cry his name, particularly when she was noisy about it. He wanted everyone to know that she belonged solely to him; no one here could ever hope to bring her the sort of pleasure that he could.

As she panted breathlessly against him, figure sinking and face sweaty, he embraced her fully. In the distance, he could hear his master's footsteps pounding down the adjacent corridor. It wouldn't be long until she arrived and saw the messy scene for herself. He cracked a smirk at that. Moving his hands down to spread his muse's cheeks wide on his lap, he nuzzled into her precious neck.

"What a good job you did," he purred slyly, kissing the exposed, salty flesh of her nape. "But the show's not over yet, little one."


	29. Lent: Vampire Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW below.  
> Warning: Bashing of religion because Alucard.
> 
> Alucard x Reader, in which you're partaking in Lent, and that means no sex.

He didn't understand why she had to do this... or why she even had to have a religion, in all honesty. Wasn't it enough for him to tell her that there was no benevolent God in the sky? Wasn't it enough for him to assert - rather aggressively, at that - that she was wasting her time believing and repenting for a being that cared little for her individual existence?

She was stubborn. She didn't want to understand. That was fine, he supposed, but only when it didn't impede on his right to fuck the living daylights out of her.

"Why not give up something less important," he urged her with a devious grin, as she bustled around the small apartment. "Like chocolate?"

She shook her head with a short laugh. "Because chocolate isn't as much of a vice as sex is."

He nearly rolled his eyes beneath his tinted glasses. Of _course_ sex was a vice, and of _course_ it didn't compare to chocolate. That was the point of this silly religious stunt; he had heard it directly from a priest.

"If you're having difficulty with Lent, start by giving up something small," the old man had announced to his audience with a grand smile.

It was clear that Alucard had taken this the wrong way intentionally, taking it to mean that one should always give up something miniscule for the observation.

He followed his woman around the place as she rushed about to prepare herself a nice meal. Every time she passed by him, he would brush his stiff lower region against some part of her. It was his way of saying he missed her. It was also his way of telling her that she ought to just _stop_ with the Catholicism. Especially now, when he wanted her terribly and she wouldn't indulge him. A spoiled king of darkness, undeath, and trickery, he wasn't used to being told _no_.

That was fine though. Her resilience is what drew him to her. He had ways of making the magical woman come around.

"You should reconsider," he purred. "Don't you want to _dominate_ me?"

She visibly tensed at his words, because _yes_ , she _did_ want to dominate him, but she couldn't right now. Grimacing, she shook her head begrudgingly to reflect this. She knew what sort of game he was playing and she wouldn't give in this time.

"We can do that after Lent," she mumbled against her deepest desires. "Please don't do this."

He chuckled at how meek her voice was, at how desperately she wanted to give in. He came up behind her as she chopped up a bunch of green onions. Sliding his arms smoothly around her waist, he felt her freeze when he rested his chin on her head.

"I'm not sure I can wait so long," he drawled lowly. "I want you writhing in my lap."

One of his hands lowered to trail up her bare leg. She realized that it had been a horrid day to wear a skirt. When he got too close to her clothes warmth, she dropped the knife and elbowed him in the ribs. He grunted at the contact, more surprised by it than harmed.

"I _can't_ ," she damn near sobbed. "Seriously."

But he was close to cracking her - he knew it. Just a little clutch here and a swift nuzzle there, and her religion would be the last thing she would be thinking about. He always told her that he would corrupt her, after all, and he didn't like going back on his promises.


End file.
